


Autumn

by percyval



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Romance, Homophobic Language, M/M, Memory Related, No Spies, Slow Romance, late in life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 23:50:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8554525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/percyval/pseuds/percyval
Summary: I, a very middle-aged man with a plummy accent and silver temples, am acting like I'm a young woman internally battling about falling in love with her own version of Mr. Darcy. Returning home may have been a huge mistake, now that I'm living my own homoerotic romantic comedy. I'm too old for this effervescent kind of romance, and I think he is, too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I based this off the synopsis of the film "Big Eden". I dunno, I mashed it with a sort of romance plot until I got something that I liked. The product is this, what I think to be, cute story about two old idiots falling in love.

Fifty-three.

When you get to a certain age, you don't panic because you're slowly decaying. At least in my experience I've been perfectly content with the thought of aging. I do not wish to live a day over eighty-nine, I've decided. I'm expecting a solid thirty-six more years of living. That gives me enough time to complete a degree to become a certified nurse, work a few years helping people and then be told I have to retire a second time. I could finish all of those novels I bought for long plane trips but never completed a third of. If I had any patience I could probably write my own successful series about spies posing as tailors who save the world from people trying to destroy it.

However, I am one of those wretched souls who actually enjoys my life. I own a little independent tailor shop named Hart & Co., just blocks away from Savile Row. Only a few weeks ago I made my last few suits for some famous twenty-something heartthrob to wear to a few awards shows. A group of adoring fans had been sat outside the shop throughout the fitting, and I watched on in sheer awe as his bodyguard parted the little cluster of young girls so he could pass through unscathed. Goes to show how "in-the-know" I am.

I left the shop to my second-in-command, Gary, my old friend Lee's son. He isn't burnt out on the work yet, and practically begged for me to turn all head tailoring duties over to him.

In a way, I'd always been a product of my quaint little hometown. Most residents worked practical jobs, lived in practical little homes with practical families, and overall lived practical lives. The word sounds queer on my tongue how often I call it "practical." But it's a thread town. It made me destined to become a tailor in some form.

Back when I was younger, I would have cursed them for being so "establishment." I'd also been a product of senseless teenage rebellion in the 80's. Leather jacket and under-eye liner to boot. I'd been one of those boys who would have scared the little old lady working at her convenience store counter for standing out in the front with an unlit fag sticking out the corner of my mouth. Of course a teenager in a leather jacket was terrifying, this town had only just recently learned of the late James Dean and started seeing Elvis Presley past the waist.

While I'd started to fall in line with this conservative bunch with age, I did like to believe I was one of the last rebels in this idyllic little town.

Unfortunately, now it's become a town that people come to die in. I barely remember when there were many children in this town. However, it sees I can only think of one or two people who would still be around today.

The rest have moved, died, or have simply dropped off the map. It's a shame to think I'll only see about so many people I actually recognise now.

I'd spent an hour on this train, staring out the window in silence while I try to pinpoint exactly why I'm traveling back here now. Both my parents have been dead since about three years ago, and on the day I attended my mum's funeral I drank and tried to pull myself together while listening to a 90's station. I guess I wanted to lie new roses upon their graves.

I gave little thought to what I'd do for the rest of the time I stayed here. Likely drink, just the same, go about and see if any of my old friends still live round here. My retirement will probably end up dedicated to sleeping and drinking and waiting to drop dead. Even just some extra sleep will do just fine for me. Maybe I can even take back on that rebellious role and see how far I can get with it.

The train screeches to a halt, and the few scattered passengers exit through the train station.

It's all still so Pleasantville. All the old, peasant-aesthetic buildings lined side-by-side down a smoothed cobblestone road, with the main entrance and exit of the town being a little bridge over a babbling river. This feels more or less like a geezer's paradise as opposed to an actual town. Like one of those senior citizen villages. Really, this is technically a senior citizen village at this point.

I drag my suitcase behind me, and walk through the streets, first attempting to find a flower shop. I might as well get the flowers first, then have that taken off my mind immediately. It takes a shamefully long time to find said flower shop, but once I'm inside it's heated and bursting with assorted flower's aromas.

The first person I see in this town is a younger woman. She greets me with a big grin and a thick Northern Dublin drawl. I ask for two roses, and shake my head when she offers tissue paper wrapping or a note card. I leave without so much as a "good day." So far I'm doing great at regaining my rebel status.

My stop at the cemetery is short and sweet. I say a few quiet words, and place one rose on Mum's grave, and the other on Dad's.

Once I've told them both that they're missed terribly, I do decide to go back to my room and cheer myself up. I mean, my wallowing in self-pity should be constrained to small intervals. I pull my coat together and quickly do up some of the buttons, now searching for the motel. My parent's house is getting cleaned up, so in a few days I'll be living back in there again.

I know that I'm going to have a somewhat boring time living here, but for once, that sounds just fine. At least it's a break from routine.

I cross the street quickly, more or less looking behind me while I make a dash for the sidewalk. As it turns out, no one was going to hit me. I'd become so used to running across the street that now I just look ridiculous doing it here. Maybe this will be a nice change of pace from London.

For the rest of my walk from the cemetery to the motel, I glance from all the grocery stores and restaurants and small businesses in between to scope out what is new. Just from a few shop signs, it seems like nothing's changed. Hell, maybe the children of the original owners of those stores did end up taking over. It is good to see that it's self-sustaining. I haven't officially lived here in thirty-four years.

Mum and Dad were so proud of their successful tailor son, I guess they were proud that their son had left to do bigger and better things. They'd always seemed content living here, but I don't think I could see myself living here at this point in my life. Hell, a single fifty-three-year-old retired tailor lives too exciting a life to settle down in a quaint village. My Netflix subscription is the most "hip" thing about me and even then I'm now so adjusted to living a fast life in London.

Not fast by the means of clubbing, drinking, dating, none of that. I'm just now used to how exciting London is.

Come to think of it, I haven't properly dated in about twenty years. Maybe longer than that. Any romantic relationships that had meaning came very early in my life. And that was just a one-time thing. Something that neither of us vowed to ever speak of again.

I've been entirely celibate for what feels like decades. I guess I'd just found productive alternatives to mindless sex. What with the upkeep of the shop, playing my own accountant over the years, and all the tailoring that usually took a full days work to complete, I've come down to the conclusion that I've lived a somewhat typical life. Maybe not the kind of life that others would admire and learn from, but one that I was content saying was my own.

I think I got all the fun things done in my youth. Streaking with a friend, drinking to excess, experimental sex, et cetera. Now I'm just ready to be old.

Maybe not this town's kind of old, but old, nonetheless.

* * *

I've tried to decide what I'll do here. I might try to get in contact with one of my old friends, maybe go meet them at the pub and talk about how long it's been since we last talked.

It's a long-shot I'll get a response from anybody, but I can go down to the lobby and use their phone and phone book to call them up.

But who do I know I can call?

Lee died young. Army.

James passed away just the same.

A few other friends scattered about, likely in different towns now. But my mind does come down to the first person it should have gone to.

I wander my way down to the lobby, and the man at the desk isn't happy I've gone and bothered him from watching the insanely-small telly on the counter.

"May I use your phone book?" Damn, breaking my perfectly-crafted rebellious streak.

"Sure." He pushes the book towards me, then returns to his football match. He adjusts the telly to where I too can view the tiny screen, but I'm on a mission now.

It's a thin little thing, looking much akin to a small comic book. It is the newest one, I guess I'd just gotten used to how large phone books are in London.

I fish my own little smartphone out of my back pocket and set it down while I search for the number. God, I'm certain I only remember his nickname.

Flipping through the pages and scanning each printed name, I come down to the 'M' section. It's only three names long.

Mabel, Mary, _Merlin_.

His name really was Merlin?

I begin to type the digits of his number into my phone. I guess over the years I'd come to convince myself that Merlin was just a dumb nickname we'd picked up in school. I'm certain that back in school he called me Galahad, after the knight in the books his mother had read to him.

I think his family had emigrated from Scotland, he was ridiculed endlessly for his accent. I don't recall it being thick, however. He could have tweaked his pronunciations just a tad and ended up sounding just like the rest of us.

While I wait for him to answer, I wonder about what he's doing. In my time living here, he never had a steady girlfriend, I don't think he ever even dated anyone during the time I knew him. While he could have a wife today, I highly doubt it. Maybe he's also enjoying the single life.

"Hello?" His voice sounds slightly rough, like I just woke him up.

"Merlin? It's Harry Hart." I glance at the football game, and remember why I dislike watching sports. On such a small screen you can't even see the ball.

"Harry! Oh, you haven't called in years. How are you doing?"

I feel like he could be smiling on the other line, but I do doubt it. I haven't spoken to him in ages for whatever reason. Was he the friend that I didn't talk to because of some awkward thing in our teens? I can barely remember what happened that caused us to stop speaking for so long.

It's also pretty ridiculous to assume anything happened to begin with. Just as easily, we could have had a natural falling out. Friends typically do when one moves away or once they've left college.

"Uhm, good. If you mean work, it's great. Finally becoming a permanent shop down in London. How are you?"

I haven't had to make small talk like this in a while. I'm really starting to realise I'm not extremely social.

"Good, too. I'm glad your tailor shop's finally taking off. I've been wanting to buy a suit, just haven't had the occasion for one, yet." He pauses. Merlin has become a pretty anti-social person as well, I take it.

"I'll be sure to give you a discount when you do need one." That makes him laugh. I smile a bit, myself. "What do you do?"

I close the phone book and go to sit down in one of the lobby chairs. The cushion has been flattened from untold years of use. I'm likely sitting on an antique.

Merlin shuffles something in the background. "I'm a sort-of computer technician. This town finally got online and everyone comes to me for help. I started charging a few years back."

"So you're a tech wizard?" That definitely makes him smile.

"Basically. I've got enough money to move, but I think I like being a glorified Best Buy employee."

Civilised conversation. In a way it's comforting. The most comforting thing about living in my hometown again.

"Well, I'm back in town. Do you want to catch up at the pub?"

I find myself fiddling with a button on my coat, not knowing whether I want him to say no or yes.

"Will you be round at eight?" His inflection, for a brief moment, makes me believe he's excited to see me.

I tell myself not to get eager. At this stage in life I can't really have 'friends.' I can have colleagues, family members who haven't died, and maybe a dog that licks my face when I'm trying to sleep. Now, I only have the former. Merlin won't be friends with me like we were. We've spent too long apart.

" _Yes_ ," I answer too quickly. I settle back, and exhale away from the phone. Idiot. "Yes, I've got no other plans then."

"Alright. See you then, Harry."

"See you then."

I hit the "end call" icon, then wonder what I'm going to say. We've already said it all. My eventful life is somehow uneventful.

For the next five hours, I get to formulate the perfect conversation points. And get myself properly dressed.

* * *

I'm standing in a mirror, trying to decide if I would rather wear my suit's jacket or not. Without the jacket, it is more casual. Better suited for a pub. While the outfit looks sharper with the jacket, I think it's best I just carry it for if it rains. Drape it on the back of my chair and pray I don't ruin it.

Maybe I could show it off to Merlin, convince him to go to the shop someday.

In the mirror, my reflection appears a bit odd. I guess I don't look at myself often, even with the mirrors set up in the fitting rooms. I wonder if I look like myself. Well, I've gained a bit of weight since I was a bony teenager with massively-fluffed hair. Not sure what much else I'd say was different.

Who knows, maybe Merlin's bald and buffer now.

I've wasted the last few hours watching the telly. Mostly very grainy old reruns of Coronation Street, as far as I'm concerned. I've done a few sets of sit ups, I forgot how difficult they are, and stretched. Look at me. Prepping like I'm going on my first date in decades. I hope he's not doing the same.

The last time I saw him was thirty-six years ago, if I recall correctly. He made me promise I'd visit. Then we lost touch. Somewhere in the mix of me apprenticing and starting up a tailoring service, I never answered his voicemails. He called so often, asking if I'd visit. He asked if he could visit me during holiday.

I listened to all of those voicemails, I tried to think up a proper response beyond not having the capacity to take a long enough break to visit him. Only an hour away and I couldn't bother to make time for him.

I'm going to properly apologise for completely isolating him.

It's not fair that for ages I never spoke to him. For a few years we were thick as thieves, and did everything together.

Every night we went out, Mum would be sure to tease us for acting like conjoined twins. "Where are Holmes and Watson off to this evening?"

I thought it was quite embarrassing at the time, but looking back, I think it was a pretty good comparison. We weren't detectives of any sort, but we were an inseparable duo. Just two idiot teenagers who went drinking and partying in the next town over with a few other friends.

Now I'm an aging, single, retired man. I've got almost nothing left.

My phone buzzes on the desk, and I pick it up. I added Merlin's number to my phone while I waited for our meeting. Why is he calling me? Did he cancel?

"Hello?" I glance over at the grainy television. Two people with static voices are arguing, and I press the nearly-stuck volume buttons until it's muted.

"Hey. Would you rather go to dinner? They just reopened Rosemary's, I was wondering if you'd rather get something to eat." He sounds a bit muffled. I'm guessing he's using speaker phone.

"Of course. That sounds lovely." I smile, and look down at my shoes. The toe of my Oxford is smudged with something, and rather than dismantle my bag to find my shoe polish and its buffer, I rub it off with my thumb. I can afford to look less tidy now.

"Alright. See you then."

He hangs up before I can say goodbye. I set my phone down, and then decide that I should polish my shoes. I want to appear like I actually am conscious of how I look.

For thirty minutes I apply small dabs of polish and furiously rub down my shoes with the buffer until they look utterly flawless. Maybe I'm dwelling on the unnecessary moments of my life. Maybe for a while there hasn't been much else beyond these mundane moments. Deciding what to wear. Buffing my shoes. Brushing my teeth four times to see if I could get them completely spotless. Trying to pomade my hair when wayward strands wouldn't mold with the rest.

Hopefully this "date" will be more interesting.

* * *

Rosemary's is only down a block from the motel, and the moment I arrive, it looks like the whole town has settled in here for tonight. Nearly every table is crowded with people, and I wonder if Merlin had set a reservation.

I rest my jacket onto my arm, and decide to wait for Merlin just in case. I'm surprised I haven't been recognised yet. Almost as if the whole town had been wiped out and replaced with shells of people. Body-snatched, I think is what they call it. Then again, if you were a resident who hadn't been body-snatched, how would you know? Everyone still here is pleasant and mild-mannered. All the raucous left and died out ages ago. Almost like that _World's End_ film, just minus three or four extra people.

The hostess grins at me, and I give a smile back. She stays standing at her podium, arms crossed over her chest. More under, I'd say. Her arms sit at about her rib cage, underneath her actual chest.

Cool air seeps into the room just as the hostess parts her lips to say something to me, but she quickly seals them back together in a simper, and she stands back up straight.

A tall, bare-headed man steps in. He wears a jumper with faux suede patch insets at the shoulders, one I think is a bit juvenile but still sophisticated in a way. I assume he wanted to make sure I didn't have a complete head-rush when I saw him again, so he dressed as close to a prep school boy as possible. His eyes settle onto me, and he makes a B-line up to me.

Is he going to shake my hand?

I reach out my hand, it seems that in this situation you'd normally shake hands with someone you hadn't seen in thirty plus years, but instead he does go right in and grab me round my shoulders, hugging me. My hand is crushed against his stomach, and for a moment I flatten it out, fingers brushing over his chest beneath his unexpectedly soft jumper. He smells of floral shaving cream, which I don't exactly mind.

Merlin steps back, a soft, close-lipped smile on his face. Were his eyes always so dark? The glasses he wears now draw more attention to the deep brown colour.

"Harry," his voice is swelled in the tenderest way possible. His accent sounds much better in person, less tinny. "You look great, I'm glad to see you."

The flattery is awkward. I know I have tired eyes, and my skin round my jaw is beginning to sag. Meanwhile he still looks relatively young, bright eyes and the like. He's just trying to be sweet, and I appreciate him not telling me I look shit.

"You, too. How haven't you become a wreck?" I tease him. He gives a tight-lipped smile, it seems like the only kind he enjoys to give. As far as I remember, that's the way he's smiled the majority of his life.

He steps towards the hostess, and after a short conversation, we're guided to our table.

Merlin looks amazing. He may even look better than when he was younger. I think he suits a bald head, makes his eyes stand out. God, to think I've gotten older and wretched while he's become admittedly more attractive. He even still seems to work out. How does he do it?

I settle into my seat, and continue my somewhat-awkward gazing at him. It's taking me ages to completely take in Merlin in his current state. He's grown into his looks, as far as I'm concerned. His looks could be comparable to an action star.

Maybe I should take my focus off his face for a while, however.

"So, you've been making suits over half your life?" He asks, seemingly befuddled that I could find satisfaction just being a tailor and nothing more.

"It wasn't that bad, Merlin. Took up most of my time and I was fine with that. And now I can do something else."

He grins, and a little chuckle noise resonates in the back of his throat.

"It's just strange thinking you could be happy with such a simple job. You used to be so restless." He sits forward, and flips open the menu in front of him and props it up, half of his face disappearing behind the laminated card stock.

"You think tailoring is simple?" I challenge him, and he smirks at one corner of his mouth.

He flips between the four "pages," and we both sit in silence for a while. I open my own menu, and browse the drink section. Once I've decided on a Guinness, I glance back up at him.

Merlin's analysing the back of my menu, he looks so entranced with it that I set it back down on the table, back facing up. He turns his eyes back to me.

There's a light reflecting off his irises, they look a bit lighter than they did in the waiting area.

"What's it like being a techie? Sitting in front of a computer all day and trying to help grandmothers write emails?"

"Pretty much on the nose. Sometimes I do have other calls, like if someone got their laptop stuck on full screen mode or turned the screen sideways, but really no one here is doing anything complex enough to fully exert my knowledge. Then again, we only really have older people who can't figure out their new laptop and just want to use the 'sky-puh' with their grandson." He looks wholly uninterested until he looks back up at me. The slightest curl forms on his lips and before I can smile back, his face is buried back in the menu.

A pretty young waiter, one who looks roughly nineteen, slowly works his way to our table.

"H-hello, what can I get started for you?" He stammers as a waitress bumps into him, passing through the narrow aisle between the tables. Quickly he pulls out his notebook and small pen.

I order my Guinness, and I, for some reason, find it surprising that Merlin ordered wine. Do I really know nothing about my best friend?

As the waiter leaves, Merlin crosses his arms over each other and leans in a bit closer. I guess I hadn't noticed the volume rising in here. For a second I look round, and it is pretty shocking the whole town can fit into this little restaurant.

"I thought you didn't like Guinness." His voice resonates, he has a voice that could fill a room were he to talk louder.

"No, why do you think that? I love it." I scoot forward in my seat, and I settle my slightly-furrowed brow.

"We were out drinking one night, Lee stole a pack of his Dad's beers. You drank one and puked into a trash can, then vowed you'd 'never drink that shit again.'" He chuckles softly, and I smile.

"It's like coffee, it's an acquired taste." I can't think to say much more after that. But he hasn't decided to leave yet, he still looks content, maybe even a little entertained.

We chat mindlessly for a while, waiting for our drinks.

He seems different. I'm not sure if it's because I had this wildly different idea of how he acted before I saw him again, or if he is just acting differently.

I keep my focus on him, as I have since he arrived, and feel like I may have made an incredibly stupid decision. It feels a bit strange here, with him. Maybe it's the atmosphere. It could be due to the fact I barely remember this town beyond gravestones and the walls of my hotel room spinning while I tried to gather myself to ride the train home. I faintly remember anything about him beyond his name and basic personality traits.

Merlin. He had dark hair when he was younger. He shaved it as a dare from our mutual friend James, who'd introduced us. He emigrated from Edinburgh and started attending school here in year 5. Merlin was a quiet, shy boy for the most part. James was the only one who could get him talking, and soon the three of us became close friends.

He loved anything Arthurian, and henceforth gave those nicknames to everyone in class. Of course, he stayed Merlin. I was Galahad, as Merlin stated was the second-in-command to King Arthur, our teacher at the time. Then I was still a good, responsible boy.

James was Lancelot, because he was valiant and noble. He scared off bullies and always was a protective soul. His death less than fifteen years later stood to break all our hearts.

Other students were other assorted names. Merlin had a sort of bond to a boy named Percival, shortly called Percy, who'd also been cursed with a Round Table-inspired name. Percival moved away after James died in the Army.

A girl James liked for a day became Guinevere. Bors, Tristan, and Gawain became boys who stuck in a threesome and weren't fond of us being the heroes. Morgana was an evil little witch of a girl who screamed at us to be her servants during recess because we were strong and 'cute.'

I only could remember our dumb adventures running down the river and hitting invisible villains with broken-off tree branches.

Eventually our drinks arrive, and I feel properly old while I take a short sip and reminisce. Seems Merlin was doing just the same.

It's hopeful to think we hadn't changed that much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it stands, I'm not sure how slow this burn is going to be. But at this rate I'm going to have a hard time surpassing three chapters, so soon I may remove the "slow romance" tag.
> 
> In addition: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and I hope you have a good day. <3 (Shorter chapter, but it will be up for Christmas definitely so sorry if I don't get another one out for a while)

With my coat draped over my arm, we both remove ourselves from the still-overcrowded Rosemary's, and start the trek back to my hotel.

"They have to refurbish your place before you can move back in?" Merlin questions, glancing about the street while we cross. I rest my hand on his arm, just below his elbow, and guide him to the curb.

I nod, then respond with a quick "yes."

It surprised me how smoothly the night had gone. We discussed how boring this town was. For a few moments I was tempted to ask him if I could stay with him until I could live in my old house again. But that was too fast, even dinner was a bit too quick for me to fully process. I'm still mulling over how he leaned in to speak with me when the restaurant was nearly dead silent, save for the clatter of metal forks against ceramic plates. My hand continues to rest on his arm, and I decide to make the moment a bit less awkward by brushing my fingertips across the fabric of his coat. I find myself almost laughing that he is shamelessly wearing a windbreaker.

"What are you laughing about, Harry?" His smile is small, and he must be trying to make up for whatever happened in that restaurant that he, too, was starting to regret.

"I didn't take you as the type to wear windbreakers," I grin, and it cushions my comment from sounding a lot more demeaning.

He breaks his arm away from me, and holds the collar of his jacket closed. His brows are furrowed in a way that I can see them through his glasses. However, his gaze does soften up a bit, and we are only a few strides away from the end of our night.

"I was going to offer to let you stay with me, but now I'm not so sure." He laughs in a way that he probably thinks makes him sound evil. Like when a small dog growls at a larger one from behind a fence. "If you still had my number you could have called me, I'd have let you stay at the drop of a hat." He stops us just at the entrance of the hotel, glancing in for a moment before turning his eyes back on me.

In that moment he's not looking at me, I feel a weight sitting on my shoulders hover off for only a moment, before he turns back and it comes crashing back down. Just in his eyes there's intensity I hadn't seen in any face in years.

"You wouldn't mind me staying with you?"

He shifts his weight onto his other foot, and nods, his breath forming a white cloud that disperses into the sky only a few inches away from him. I'm indebted to him.

"Thank you, Merlin." He smiles, and gestures inside.

He waits in the lobby while I gather my bags and clothes.

It seems unfair to me. I just waltz back into Merlin's life, and he immediately offers me a place to stay after one quick reunion. He's incredibly generous to offer so quickly, I need to find the proper way to thank him for it. I'll arrange something once I can think of it.

But right now I'm feeling the slightest hint tipsy and I think I could let myself revert back to a dumb teenager for a little while.

As I stroll back into the lobby with my key in one hand, bags dragging behind me in the other, I find the clerk at the counter still staring at the tiny, fuzzy television screen. That thing had to be ancient, I think I could make out the outline of a VHS slot as I passed him by.

I feel almost a little shock as I turn to see Merlin approaching, hand outstretched. He takes my rolling suitcase and leaves me with my other bag to carry myself.

"Thirty years shoved into these two suitcases?" He sounds smug. If I had the gall to I'd play-slap him. But that's still a bit too far for the time being. And a bit juvenile.

"I'm having the rest shipped to my house. The packages are coming tomorrow, I think, I'll have to stop by and get them." I shove my free hand in my pocket, as I am beginning to feel the nighttime chill. "I'd suppose everything you needed could fit into a suitcase or two though, hm?"

Merlin is quiet for a moment, but then he does nod. "Pretty much. Might need a box for my desktop. Though, that's still only two carriers."

On the journey from the hotel to Merlin's house, I feel a bit tempted to ask about his love life. It is really only morbid curiosity driving me to know if he's had any relationships or any sex for the past three decades. I must be tipsy.

It's a question dreaded by anyone over thirty. If romantic comedies had taught me anything, I'd know to keep my mouth shut and not ask. But, the silence is killing me and I don't think it would be prying too deeply.

"How's your love life been, Merlin?"

I'm officially that grandmother at a family reunion who wants to pry into her grandchild's relationships for no other reason than to embarrass them (even if she doesn't acknowledge it's embarrassing).

He clears his throat quietly, and he gives me an expression denoting that my question was too much.

"I haven't been able to get a date in about ten years. Even then I've only had five dates in my life and one relationship that lasted me a few months back when I was twenty-three," his voice sounds distant, and he sighs like he hasn't thought over these things in a long time. He comes out of his dreamy reminiscence just long enough to throw the question back at me. "And you, Harry?"

I tip my head to the side and try to think over how long it had been since I'd been on a date.

"I've only had one date since I left. We weren't compatible."

"In what sense?"

"She wasn't my type."

"You're going to need to be more specific. Type could mean anything from opinion about milky tea to set of genitals."

I glance to him, and he's turned to me as well. It's a bit awkward staring at each other, but I guess I do now owe him the answer. But really, are my sexual preferences that relevant? It's so unlikely he'd care if I told him, I feel like it'd just be another useless fact about me.

"She was a crazy cat lady. Couldn't handle it when I told her I had a dog. She fled the moment Mr. Pickle jumped up onto her shin."

Merlin rolls his eyes at me. I think I would have done the same.

"Do you think I'm going to believe that?"

I sigh soundlessly, and decide I shouldn't have tried that on him at all. It was a stupid thing to say. He already knows what I'm going to say, he already knows that I'm not certain if I should say it, he's basically omniscient.

"I tried to prove to myself that night I could be bisexual and I realised I couldn't." I try not to sound too sorrowful, I don't really think I sound it at all, even. I haven't thought about that date in a few years, but every time I tried to gain the courage to get up and ask someone I'd become fond of to go on a date with me, I remembered that night, and thought I'd ruin the relationship we already had.

The boy who took over my shop, Gary, I thought he was stunning and interesting. He was loud and boisterous and utterly bright in my eyes, and every night he stayed late to perfect blind stitch and avoid going home, I thought I'd be able to at least ask if he did have an interest in men and if he'd be interested in a date. As it stands now we text each other, and as far as I can tell he has a boyfriend. Some brunet who came to the shop once in a while to get a few shirts reinforced and fixed up, Gary would become a little nervous seeing him enter and offer to fix everything up himself before taking the boy into the fitting room for an hour or two at a time. He's in that stage of love where he still has butterflies in his stomach and he wants to turn away when they get naked. I envy him.

At some point I'd come to realise that I didn't believe in true love or soulmates, at least in my own life. Men I was attracted to came and left, while I stood there in awe if I should make a move or not. I was just scared to ruin something good. I still think it's more rational than throwing myself at the first man who's sweet to me in years.

"I had a feeling." He looks over to me, and nods slowly. It's like he's reassuring himself about something.

"Are you?" It feels almost dumb to ask that, at this point it is prying. At this rate he's going to kick me out and tell me to leave him alone for good.

"Well, yes, I'd thought you'd remember." He furrows his brows, and rests a hand on my shoulder. "Did you think I was straight just because I called every time we fucked 'experimenting?'"

And again I'm nervous. The night I left, we agreed that we'd never talk about how we'd slept together again, and I decided that breaking contact was the best idea. In the moment Merlin seemed fine with it. He was accepting that we thought we'd never speak to each other again. He was strong enough to move on, we both were. Every single 'experiment' we treated like something special, and I guess it just came down to the both of us never being comfortable enough to admit there was a real form of attraction and that it wasn't just sexual. The whole night I was worried he'd bring it up and it'd ruin my mood for the rest of the night.

"Ah, yes. Been 'experimenting' with anyone else lately?" He stops at the door, fishing through his pocket to find his keys while he shivers. He should invest in a hat for the winter.

"Not exactly. Can't ever find a guy who's comfortable enough to actually have sex. They're always insecure or are just experimenting." I guess I'm the former. "Last year I went to a gay bar in London and I swear I saw you. Ran up and just found some Mr. Darcy look-alike that had never seen me before and was about to call security on me. But I did get laid in the end, so it was fine."

"You know I'd never be able to will myself to go to a gay bar." I'd gone more than a dozen times to drink and leer.

"Not without me." He smiled as he unlocked the door, and we stepped into his heated home.

Merlin flipped a switch, and I guess I was a bit shocked to find that he lived in a normal-looking house. But, he probably hadn't done anything to it since he moved in. I couldn't see him as being someone obsessed with interior decorating. I place my coat on the rack and set my suitcase down for a moment to take it in. If I'm being honest, I also need a minute to take in our conversation.

He grins at me, and gestures to his front room.

"You can sleep here if you want. Or you could be a man and sleep in my room where it's warm and you'll have someone to pester." He smirks subtly, and sets my other bag with me.

It's a bit easy to choose where I'm going to sleep, but really I feel like it would be too uncomfortable and be breaking too many boundaries to share a bed with him so quickly.

"It's not going to be invasive for me to be sharing your bed?"

He shrugs, and disappears in the kitchen. "I don't really mind. Like I said, it's not like I'll need it for anything beyond sleeping. I'd be happier if you were in here with me, though. I stay up late and talk to myself, it'd be a change of pace to have you with me."

Merlin appears before me with two beers, and gives one to me without asking if I'd like it. Joke's on him, I don't pass up free alcohol.

We sit down in the living room, Merlin sprawling his legs out onto the coffee table like how a cat stretches after waking up from a long nap. He flips on the telly and I absentmindedly watch the news while trying to inebriate myself further. I want to forget how stupid I've been tonight and while it'll only be temporary it's good enough for now. Merlin rests back, and his eyes are half-lidded by the commercial break.

"Do you think James and Percival were together? I think they were." He takes another quick sip, and I'm only given a moment to remember how they acted together.

I hadn't known Percy well while we were in school, and while I still could phone him up and ask him about life, old friends have said he's somewhat a recluse. Like he fell off the face of the earth. I only knew him through his interactions with James. He only looked happy with him, otherwise his face took on a stone-like sullen quality that made the rest of us think him to be a mystery standing right before our eyes. The first time I saw him smile he was smiling at James while he wasn't looking, the first time I saw him touch another human being James had his arm round his shoulders and he sidled up closer to him, shivering. I felt almost a little upset learning that Percival had stopped talking to anyone after he found out James had died. He was in closest contact with Merlin, who he broke with last. His best friend in the world is light years apart from him now, I couldn't exactly blame him for the depression he fell into.

"Maybe. Could have been a bit one-sided." I swirl the beer round in the amber bottle, and I wonder what it must be like to lose your closest friend. What would I do if I lost Merlin? He's all I have left and while I barely know him now, I'd still be devastated to hear he passed, even just quietly in his sleep.

He nodded, and I take a longer look at him. He's not happy to discuss this either. We've gotten into a territory he doesn't want to discuss and I don't know why we're continuing.

"On Percy's side? Of course. Unrequited romance beyond a little kissing and one embrace. He thought James didn't love him and was just drunk. But he was wrong. James loved him and loved him deeply. It's a shame he died. It'd be nice to have happy gay friends for once."

"You're implying I'm not happy?" I try out that coy inflection again, I just think it's digging me into a deeper grave.

Merlin grins. I love the expression on his face. It's subtler than a grin, it's the kind of expression that isn't too wide or too small or one that causes you to wonder if they really mean it. I'm over-analyzing a smile now. Why am I pondering so deeply about a pleasant look on his face?

"Didn't think it from a lonely tailor moving back to his hometown to die, actually."

I grin right back, and he sets down his empty beer bottle to go grab two more. So much for sobriety.


	3. Chapter 3

On the coffee table stands five empty beer bottles, and on a somewhat tacky orange couch sit two slightly-drunk middle-aged men talking about how attractive a news anchor is.

"I love his eyes. Also his smile." Merlin points out the anchor's creased blue-green eyes and equally-creased pearly-white smile. It seems his taste has aged with him, as I'd have expected from him.

"He fills out that suit amazingly, at least in the torso." I smirk, leering on at a thirty-year-old while he reports on the updates of some protest back in London. Merlin has moved his legs from the coffee table to rest on my lap, and I have been resting my hand on one for the past half hour.

I want to look up and check the time. But I've become transfixed on watching this anchor. His voice isn't very attractive, I could be listening to a better one right now, but I can drown it out to better suit my mood.

Of course I'm feeling a tightness in my pants I haven't felt in a while. I get drunk with my best friend, watch the _news_ with him, and now I'm getting aroused. And I'm realising how easy it is for me to feel embarrassed of myself. If I'd been alone it'd be easier to resolve, but I'm going to have to just let it fade off painfully for Merlin's sake.

"They've got to switch out the anchor sometime," my voice sounds like my mind has completely drifted away.

"Why would you want them to?" Merlin kicks his foot back and hits me playfully in the leg.

I'm not exactly wanting to play-fight now, it feels too childish to do that. I'm also a bit worried that any further physical contact with Merlin will do more harm than good to my current situation.

"I think I'll go to bed early." I start getting up, and Merlin moves his legs for me.

"Bedroom's next to the bathroom. Down the hall. Goodnight, Harry," he sounds tired, and I'd offer to help drag him to bed but he seems content lying in front of the TV.

I take my bag from the front door and drag it into the bathroom with me, now wondering if this is my chance. It's absolutely disgusting to think I'd even be comfortable with the idea of masturbating in my friend's bathroom, maybe I should go back to the hotel tomorrow until my house is done being fixed up.

It takes a minute to fish out my toothbrush and toothpaste. I could likely get away with it. Merlin's likely going to be asleep by the time I'm reaching climax. I could sacrifice a belt to keep myself quiet. Or I could take a shower and mask the sound with running water. Paste spurts out onto the brush and I force myself to watch myself in the mirror while I think. It's like when a dog pees on the floor and their nose is rubbed in it, I feel like I should punish myself for thinking like this.

I feel repulsive. I push the brush back and forth across my molars and try desperately to will away my erection. If I can do that much I won't feel as revolting.

The first thought that crosses my mind is a memory.

* * *

_We've been standing out on the bridge connecting us to the very outskirts of London for what feels like hours. My hands have grown cold from resting on the short cobblestone borders for too long. I retreat them up to my sides and hold my hands beneath my arms to keep them warm._

_Merlin shivers, he's been wearing the same jacket for ages and its nearly threadbare. He stands right beside me, trying to absorb my warmth like I'm a heat lamp. James and Percy are on the other side of the bridge, talking together nearly silently. James's arm is slung protectively over Percival, and he's trying to decide whether to move his hand up to grasp onto James's or just leave it hanging loosely at his side._

_I feel a little tempted to move in that same way, maybe rest my head on Merlin's shoulder. But we're too close to town. I don't want to try that with the possibility that our parents could find us. It's too risky to try._

_We've all just come back from school, tagging behind the other kids who also went to the next town over to go to school. This is one of the more secluded places in town, we'd grown tired of sitting on the hill overlooking the county, and we weren't ballsy enough to go hang out in the next town over. There wasn't a completely solitary place in the whole town, and James and Percival had been caught enough times we decided our spot had to change every few weeks._

_Merlin glanced over to me and grinned._

_"You look different without the eyeliner and tall hair, Harry."_

_"Bugger off, you mophead." I smirk, and decide to lean further against him. Now he's gone all nervous. His hand hovers, like he is also deciding if he wants to hold my shoulder or just pat me on the back._

_His hand settles on my shoulder. My face brightens into a smile._

_"Maybe the next time we head off to town you could let me wear your platform shoes." His mockery knows no bounds. If I hadn't just been wearing over-polished Oxfords I'd be stomping on his foot by now._

_I resolve to kick him in the shin. Then my hand instantly shoots up to to fix my hair like a proper dick. I fluff it up, then destroy it with my fingers until it's an unfathomable mess._

_"I can't believe I'm hanging out with punk Einstein." He grins, squeezing me round my shoulder._

_"Can't believe I'm hanging out with The Beatles." I glance up at him, I'm pathetically short compared to Merlin._

_He smirks, and hisses._

_"Burn." He laughs near my ear, and I get that feeling you're supposed to get when someone whispers to you in your ear. I feel like my knees begin to buckle and I get anxious to turn and look at him._

_I do. I turn to see him staring at me with intense dark eyes. In some way I feel like his gaze is melting me. Again, pathetic._

_We need to go someplace more private. Merlin seems like he isn't scared of being caught with me, but I wouldn't want to risk anything. Especially losing my best friend just because we gave up on boundaries a few years ago. That's one of the things I'm anticipating when I move out._

_We've already planned it. We're moving to London and we'll live in a townhouse. He's joking about joining MI6, of course compromising his actual chances of being a proper James Bond. I'm joking about becoming a tailor right back, but that's at least realistic. But I'm betting we'll both work desk jobs and I'm scared we'll become preoccupied with bills and work and stop hanging round like we were able to before. However our adult lives went, we'd promised each other we'd stay together through all of it. That we'd always stay at each other's sides, basically marrying each other in the whole process._

_"We're going now," I feel my voice begin to shake as the cold hits my face straight on. I pop the collar of my jacket, and duck my face behind it._

_James turns to see us off, waving and smiling. Percival follows the motion and giving a reserved smile, like a Jane Austen character._

_Merlin and I have found that no one sets foot near the outskirts of the cemetery, a spot surrounded by trees where we could hide out if we ever needed to. I'd also done as any dumb teenager would do and carved both mine and Merlin's initials into the tree we reclined on. We were isolated from the rest of the world there, it was incredible how secluded we were._

_I take Merlin's arm as we walk, holding it underneath so no one passing us by can tell I'm holding him. I exhale a pale grey cloud, and tip my head back to exhale again. Merlin laughs, and does the same. I've been doing this same dumb preschooler shit for ages and it's always fun to me. But I feel a little less dumb when he joins in and is a git with me._

_"You think it's better than actually smoking a fag?" He sounds so sly, I feel tempted to hit him just to wipe that smug look off his face._

_"No._ You _think it's better?" I can play that same coy game as well._

_Merlin shrugs. "It might be. Healthier, I guess."_

_"But it's just air."_

_I tuck myself in closer to Merlin while we walk, and we're only strides away from that clearing. In late spring, the flowers that spring up look like they've been purposefully planted there. I've been devising a theory that someone had made it their own secluded meadow, but long ago they abandoned it. Now it basically belongs to Merlin and I, hence the carving on the tree and our near-constant visitations to it. Maybe one day we could build a cottage here. The space is big enough for it._

_We disappear into a few feet of trees, then emerge on the other side, like we just transported ourselves into Narnia. The trees stand miles tall from my perspective, and they leave a round border for the clouded sun to poke through. Today is too overcast to see any sun to begin with, however._

_While I admire our private world, Merlin takes my shoulder and arm, pinning me to one of the monstrously-tall trees. He grins and kisses me softly._

_His lips are warm, unexpectedly so. I finish my exhale once he breaks his lips away from mine. He smiled at me and laughed gently, resting his forehead lazily against mine. His shaggy hair falls into my eyes, I push it away after a few moments of irritated blinking just to catch a glance into his eyes._

_Hazel, I think. A bit greenish when the light hits them, they're lovely. He's stupid to hide them behind his shabbily-cut hair._

_I push the rest of his hair away from his face, giving myself time to fully admire it._

_"You know, you'd actually look decent if you cut off that ugly bowl." I smirk, and he furrows his brow with a small smile still sitting on his face._

_"Shave it off when I'm dead."_

_I grin, and lean in a bit closer, my nose bumping against his._

_"You shave yours off, I'll cut mine off, too." I laugh, and run a hand through mine._

_He follows my same gesture, flattening mine down._

_"Sleeked with a side part. That'd make you look handsome. Sad to say but you look like an eletrocuted Persian."_

_I fake a frown, and rest my cheek against his jaw. I place one kiss on his neck and pull my arms up to rest on his shoulders, grabbing him closer to block out the cold. He's my best friend. The only person in the world I'd feel useless without._

* * *

I find myself lying on Merlin's bed. I've done my whole nightly routine while continuing to reminisce on being quite gay and quite in love with my best friend.

My eyelids feel heavy. I feel tempted to drift to sleep, but I feel obligated to make sure Merlin also makes it to bed.

I force myself back up, and shuffle my way back to the living room. He's asleep on the sofa, curled up and facing away from the TV. I turn it off, and start nudging and pushing Merlin to wake up.

"Come on, I don't want you to have back pain tomorrow." I whisper, more like a tired plea, and then he turns round.

I get the great honour of trudging back to his bedroom with him, his arm draped over my shoulder and one of mine resting on his side. It's better to be safe than to drop him on the floor and have to try to pick him back up while he's barely conscious.

We settle down into his bed, me lying on the furthest edge of the bed that I can, while Merlin doesn't do the same. He lies on half the bed, normally, while I act like I'm sleeping next to someone I despise.

Once I can be certain he's fallen asleep, I do scoot a bit closer, basking in the warmth he's radiating.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise not getting this out until 2017.
> 
> IT TOOK ME A YEAR TO UPDATE. HA.

I wake up to the sight of the back of Merlin's bald head.

It's not exactly spectacular, it's not something I haven't seen on dozens of men before him, but for some reason because it's him I find myself wanting to touch his head. No particular reason other than the sun is pouring through the curtains and shining onto it.

I can see where he still does have hair that grows in, it's just the top of his head is totally hairless. I'd take it it's more graceful to go totally bald as opposed to grow it out like Doc Brown.

I blink lazily as I watch the back of his head, and I guess he must be awake and feel my eyes on him, as he turns to look at me during one of my longer blinks. Suddenly seeing him staring at me causes me a bit of panic, but nothing I physically express. Instead I lie there, now smiling gently as he sits up, rubbing his eyes and stretching.

"You look better bald." I say a bit weakly. I'm still not entirely awake.

He turns back to me, cocking one dark eyebrow.

"You really think so? I think I look a bit ridiculous." He runs a hand over his head, then turns to step into the bathroom. When he closes the door, I feel comfortable enough to finally get up.

He couldn't look ridiculous if he tried.

I myself feel quite ridiculous for staring at him like that. Nothing I'll lose sleep over, but a misstep in my eyes.

It's only September, but the sun is already starting to settle behind grey clouds. It looks as if winter will be here soon enough. Winter isn't my favourite season. I'd much prefer autumn year-round, maybe even spring year-round as opposed to intensely hot or cold weather.

I can barely hear the patter of water onto the acrylic threshold of the shower. I've decided that despite the fact I need to do my morning routine, I'll wait until he's finished.

"How long will you be?" I knock on the door, asking a bit louder than I needed to.

"You can come in and do whatever you need to. I don't mind." He responded, and I started to notice his scent seeping out through the crack in the door. He hadn't even closed it.

I inch it open until I'm hit by musk and heat, slightly sweet and completely alluring. But I focus myself on brushing my teeth, shaving, combing out and styling my hair, and washing my hands a few dozen times after taking a piss. I even wash off the tap just to be safe.

In a brief lapse of concentration, I look over my shoulder at him. He's done very well keeping himself in shape, I have to commemorate him for that. I quickly turn away after admiring his profile.

He comes out of the shower before I've finished shaving. I pat on my aftershave that he scrunches his nose at, and the slight sting distracts me from taking a curious glance at him full-frontal. I feel so guilty avoiding him like this. I refuse to look at him, to talk to him, I probably would find a way to protest sharing a room with him. But right now I'm just not fully comfortable with him and I'm trying to avoid ruining my chances with remaining friends with him.

I pull on a pair of slacks when he enters back into the room. He's at least wrapped a towel round his waist, least I won't feel as guilty if I inadvertently look down at his crotch. Instead I look to see him sitting down on the bed beside me.

"You're acting weird. You feeling alright?"

I nod, putting on a small smile to convince him.

"Merlin, I'm just fine. Just a little uncomfortable. Nothing towards you, I'm just not used to sharing a living space with anybody." I'm sure that's not what I should have said, but it wouldn't feel right to lie to Merlin.

"I get it. I guess I'm being a bit too touchy and close too quickly. I'm sorry about that."

"Sorry I'm avoiding you."

He smiles gently at me.

"It's fine," he trails off for a moment. "Thanks for waking me up and getting me into bed."

I smile back at him.

"Don't word it like that."

He nods, and rests his hands on his lap. I watched him like a cat, and I felt a bit weird openly gawking at him like that. Like a stalker who thought they had gotten away with staring at their object of affection. Except I couldn't place why I'd taken to staring at him like this. He looks peachy in this light, the beam coming through the window tinted him pink. He hadn't shaved in the bathroom, now he's stubbly and still a bit tired-looking.

As far as I can tell he hasn't noticed me staring. But how could he not?

I look away, laughing uncomfortably while we both, otherwise, sit in silence. Merlin stands, stretching again, and he turns back to me.

"Do you have anything to do today? Or am I going to be baby-sitting you?" He sounds like he finds himself clever, and I nod.

"I don't have much planned." I stand up, following him into the kitchen.

I don't think I'd actually thought what I'd do once Merlin took me in. My mind's hit a blank. I'm sure Merlin wouldn't mind me lounging around his house for a while, going out, then coming back to awkwardly share a bed with him again once it hit 11 pm.

"I've got to repair a laptop later today, some old man poured coffee onto his grandson's laptop for looking at porn." He gestures for me to sit down at the kitchen table, and I comply, while he chuckles to himself. "You'd think that wasn't as common as it is, I've had five calls in the past year for grandparents finding porn on their grandkids laptops. They try to ask how to remove it and end up scolding the kid on the line while I'm still trying to walk them through the recycle bin."

He flicks a tab on his electric kettle, and stands back against the counter, looking down at me.

"If you stay you can listen in."

While it would be quality bonding time, I don't think he'd enjoy me lying around with him waiting for an entertaining call. It's better I go and make myself acquainted with this town again before I move back in.

"I'll wander a while. I could be back at noon, when do you stop working?"

"Anytime I please, my schedule revolves around you for as long as you're here."

I smile as he passes me a mug, pouring in the boiling water. "Do you want to do anything tonight? 'Watch' the news?"

He smiles back with one corner of his mouth, and prepares his own mug of tea.

"What did we do when we were teenagers? Get drunk and run around in pitch blackness?" He goes to drizzle milk into his tea.

"While screaming 'God Save the Queen,' of course." I dunk my tea bag into the piping hot water.

Merlin laughs, the sound resonates from the back of his throat. I'm growing fond of the sound. He takes a sip of his tea, and I find myself a bit impressed that he hasn't waited a moment for it to stop steaming. He's quite the Scotsman.

"Would you like to do something like that? At least getting drunk and singing poorly?"

I'm staring down into my mug of tea, and slowly the water's turning darker. I dig out one sugar cube from the bowl on the table and plop it in, stirring it around, now prolonging my tea enjoyment even further.

"Maybe. But I haven't gotten drunk in a fun context in years. It must be better with someone else there to keep you from getting existential." I turn my gaze up to Merlin, and he's grinning.

"We could go to that gay bar in the next town over, that one you never wanted to go into because you didn't want to be seen as a queer. You might meet someone there," he doesn't exactly sound thrilled when he brings up the prospect of me meeting a man.

"Or I won't." I finally get to drink my tea, and Merlin's already finished his.

"Alright. We'll go tonight." As he's going to dispose his empty mug in the sink, his hand trails back to ruffle my hair. I presume it's now curly and wrecked, Merlin wrecking it even further. The moment he has his hand in my hair feels like time is dragging on slower than it ever had before, he doesn't want to remove his hand. After a while I look up at him, and he takes his hand away quickly. He seems quite pleased as he retreats to his computer.

* * *

The closer it comes to us going to the bar, the more I worry that the choice I'm making is stupid. I don't want to meet anyone. I'm happy being single, and I can get almost everything an actual lover can give me from Merlin (beyond the sex and promises that I'm loved when I'm convinced I'm all alone). Late-night phone conversations, dinner dates, someone to cuddle up with when we get adjusted to each other again. Nothing I couldn't get from my best friend. I've heard of that 'friends-with-benefits' thing, but I don't think it's for Merlin and I (at least, I wouldn't want to risk fucking it up and losing him for good).

Ever since we were teenagers, it was me being scared I'd lose Merlin somehow, or I'd be caught doing something that could get me sent to some boarding school. In some way it always revolved around me being afraid I wouldn't see him again. That's how James felt about Percy. He was worried they'd be caught together, and he'd be shipped away and lose all contact. They were always too careful, but they still found a way to lose contact and weep over each other without having ever been caught. I should be thankful my parting with Merlin was by choice, even if it was a stupid choice to stop calling and stop visiting.

I'm resigned to the fact I wouldn't have reconnected with Merlin ever again had I not moved back here. That makes me feel quite glad, actually.

While I'm not thrilled about going to my first gay bar in years, I can't remember how many, at least Merlin's by my side. I'll be able to talk to him the whole night, get drunk with him, dance embarrassingly with him, and have a good time just with him alone. I don't even have to interact with other guys there.

But I feel he's going to force me to talk to other people. If he does, however, I'll be respectful and talk to someone.

I start pondering the hypothetical question of Merlin and I rekindling our relationship from when we were teens. It's not a particularly bad thought, in fact there are a few fantasies I've thought up that are outdoing that news anchor in every way. But that's disgusting, fantasising about having sex with my best friend. Just because he's gay doesn't mean he's going to be ready to fall into bed with me.

When I'm drunk, I'm particularly good at keeping my emotions camouflaged, so it's a safe bet Merlin will never know I've imagined him tying me down to his bed while hurting and fucking me until I reach climax. It's just not the reasonable thing to do. There's a time for drunk confessions of attraction, but that's after knowing them for months, maybe. And while we've known each other a long time, these new versions of ourselves are nearly foreign. I mean, Merlin looks like a proper film star, that's enough to say he's different from the meek boy I knew ages ago.

We wouldn't be like that. I can't see it happening, much less living with him for more than a week. Suffice it to say, I'm more nervous for tonight than I really should be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL WE'RE FIVE CHAPTERS IN AND THERE'S NO ROMANCE YET. (This is what I'd call a success, because apparently I'm only versed in writing quick romance and nothing else. Resolution one: take it easy on the romance, branch out. This isn't exactly branching out but then again, I am starting to like this story.)

Tonight, I am adamant. I refuse to speak to anybody that passes me by, I don't dance with anybody, I sit with Merlin and drink my second pint of Guinness. Merlin, on the other hand, is quite involved in flirting with a younger man from two tables over who he'd been gawking at for half an hour. He smiled faintly and laughed and slowly progressed his way to sitting only centimetres away from the man while he looked from his drink back up to Merlin.

I'd wanted to spend my night talking to him and getting closer to him, but it seemed he'd just placed up walls so I couldn't get any closer. It's like his full story from when I left to now is only fuzzy facts and a few hints to larger events that transpired in that thirty-odd years. And now, instead of learning anything more about an adult Merlin, I'm watching him chatter aimlessly with a twenty-year-old.

And I could say I am a bit envious that he's given all his attention to this man; maybe there's more to my jealousy altogether. But instead of feeling like an intruder while Merlin is trying to bring him home, I decide to go refill my drink for the second time within an hour and see where the night takes me. I can't imagine I'll be taking someone home, I'll likely wander around for a few hours while Merlin's with that boy. I'll come home and curl up at the other side of the bed while he's still in the afterglow of an orgasm.

The bartender is nice, he gives me a sympathetic smile as he sees me come back alone. He looks only a few years younger than me, gruff voice and gruff look overall, but still quite friendly.

"I understand," he says after I explain my current situation. "I felt the same way with my friend. But then again, I was in love with him and I wanted all his attention to myself."

"I don't quite get _that_ , but tonight I wanted to spend with him. I just came back to town and I'm just starting to realise how much I missed him, but he's completely ignoring me." I take a drink, and decide to sit at the bar and talk to him.

A man with two other men draped on either shoulder comes up beside me, clearing his throat in an attempt to get the bartender's attention.

"Well I couldn't see why he'd ignore you. He was hanging onto you when you came in, it's safe to say he likes you. I bet he just wants you to find someone here. You _are_ single, right?" He pours drinks for the three men beside me, and I give a quick nod at him.

But Merlin didn't seem interested in having sex with just anybody. He didn't even seem that concerned with romance. The bartender has to be right, he's probably flirting with that random man as a way to force me to go and talk with someone else.

I get up from the bar, and walk on the outskirts of the dance floor--which is more just a designated area of the bar that people are dancing in. I feel quite alone, taking a few long drinks at a time, and before long I set my glass back down on the bar and continue on my walk around the bar. If I had it in me I'd dance, but I'd rather stay out here, watching and waiting for Merlin.

On the 'dance floor,' I see men that can't be older than thirty grinding up against each other and embarrassingly flailing to fast electronic music. Not exactly my taste. There are a few women scattered among the crowd, but all seem to have come with dates.

Scantily-clad men are, surprisingly, doing nothing for me. I honestly feel like I want to go home.

I'm starting to make my way back towards our seat. I dread not finding him there, having to navigate my way through this town, then back to Merlin's house in utter darkness. I'm also just afraid that he decided to leave without me, or I'll get home and find him in the middle of having sex and having that image burned in the back of my mind for the rest of my life.

When I find myself standing in front of the beat-up sofa, Merlin is alone and looking a bit confused.

"You're alone?" He glances around me, and I settle down onto the sofa with him.

"No one was looking to chat up a fifty-three-year-old ex-tailor." I feel a little less bitter at him, and manage a smile. In his presence I feel happier.

He rests his arm over the back of the sofa, and exhales.

"He didn't seem interested once you left. I think he was looking for a three-way." He chuckles lowly, and turns away to get a better look at the rest of the crowd. His face is only a few mere inches away from me, I can smell the alcohol permeating his breath.

"Ew." I laugh, and he fakes an offended look.

"I'd only engage in that threesome if you were there, at least we could have chatted while fucking him." His hand brushes my shoulder, and I feel like he may be starting to get drunk.

I'm thinking over a threesome with Merlin. When I imagine it, the boy isn't there. I can't imagine him. I can only see myself being fucked by him. And I may also be getting drunk, because I'm finding that thought a little exciting.

"Chatting during a three-way. Didn't take you as the type." I smile, and I can't get the image out of my head now. God, I can't even look at Merlin right now.

"Didn't take you as the type to take no interest in sex with a twenty-something." He smirks.

I shrug, and dare to take a glance at him.

I feel foolish for doing this. I also feel like a kid. Back when I didn't know if I was gay and asked Merlin what he thought, proceeded by kissing and grinding that actually got me off. I always got really nervous around him when I was aroused, leading to constant embarrassment. Now I like to think I'm not so uncomfortable and awkward, but that's quite optimistic.

"Want to dance?" He sounds like he's joking when he asks.

"Show them how it's done, you mean?" I laugh and settle back into the sofa, but to my dismay Merlin stands up.

He stands in front of me, offering out his hand and grinning. He's drunk. God, I wish I was in the right state of inebriation to dance. But as it stands I'd rather be sitting with him in silence.

Even then, I take his hand. He holds it tightly while he pulls me up. I meet his eyes and that vision of him on top of me decides to rear it's head again. He turns his back to me as he pulls me through the crowd, and the image leaves my head. I can actually look at him when he's not facing me.

We're sucked up into the hoard of people crammed together on the dance floor, and I keep my grasp tight on Merlin. It's more instinct than a conscious effort I make not to lose him among all the writhing bodies. But I doubt I could lose him, given his height and shiny head.

The music is incredibly loud, it seems the speakers are situated above this part of the room specifically. We're surrounded by men and a few scattered women either dancing amazingly well for being drunk or poorly for being sober. Merlin starts swinging around as far as our spacial limitations allow, and I'm not sure where to look. I don't feel comfortable dancing, I don't know what to do with my hands or what to move. He smirks at me and bumps his hip into mine, bouncing me into another man just a few centimetres away from me. In haste I apologise.

"I'm so sorry, my friend bumped me over here." I'm nearly jammed into him while I try to plead for forgiveness. There's a girl with him, and she seems completely displeased that I interrupted their grinding.

"Fuck off," the man scowls, shoving me back into Merlin.

I run into him, my chest slamming against his. My forehead hits his cheek, and for a second I rest my hands on his sides while I try to make sense of what just happened. I level my gaze with his, and Merlin is looking past me, at the man who shoved me.

He turns, keeping me behind his back and holding my hand.

"Excuse me!" He gives a menacing look at the man as he turns. I would feel a bit embarrassed that Merlin's protecting me, but as it stands, it is a little exciting watching him defend me.

"The fuck do you want?" He glares, and the girl standing behind him is looking quite pissed herself.

"Could you apologise to my friend Harry?" He pulls me forward, still holding my hand. I don't get why he hasn't let me go.

The man scoffs, and turns away. Merlin uses his free hand to turn him around, and is giving him a cold stare.

"Apologise to him." His voice is harsh now, and I wouldn't be surprised if Merlin was about to take him out back.

"Just leave us alone, alright you fag?" He starts moving with his girlfriend off the dance floor, and I turn back to face Merlin. He looks pissed. I move my other hand to rest in his, and he grabs them both tightly.

"That arsehole," he glowers.

I smile at him, that begins to mellow him out. Neither of us can move off the dance floor, I don't think I'd want to, either. I like standing here with him, I like it when he rubs his thumbs over my own.

"We should go home." I dread the moment he's going to let go of my hands.

Merlin smiles at me, and leans in closer.

"Let's just get out of _here_ , okay?" He squeezes my hands gently.

In this moment, I'd forgotten to take a breath. I continue to stare at him, I continue to keep my eyes focused solely on him. I'm transfixed on his eyes. The way the spinning lights reflect lighter brown and green hues in his eyes. I can't be totally sober right now.

He slinks through the crowd, we both slide through and find ourselves shivering outside in no time. I feel a little disappointed seeing that Merlin had let go of me, but I let it pass. We walk down the middle of street, it’s strangely deserted at nine pm. Merlin looks over at me, and begins to stumble through the words of an old song.

I can’t place what the song is immediately. It's a bit depressing, I know that was one of our favourite songs when we were young. He sings out the opening guitar, and I feel frustrated when I can't immediately tell what it is.

" _I try to get you talking but you shy away, you don't want to play with meeeeee,_ " he laughs, bumping up into me and grabbing me by the shoulder. I smile, and decide to further embarrass myself. At least I'm being a moron with him.

" _And all my words and_ something _but to no avail, and_ something something _mysteryyy-y_!" I cackle, and I fall over him.

In unison we sing the chorus, improvising every word we can't remember with 'something' or 'shit, I fucking forgot.' We laugh like schoolboys, we find it hilarious that we can't remember the words when in any other situation it'd be infuriating.

I run into the bridge, hitting the same barrier that we both used to lean on while waiting for our peers to retreat home. Shivering, I grab Merlin and tuck in close to him, forcing him to block me against the barrier. I smile and breath into his neck, my face buried. All I can smell is him, it's warm and familiar and comfortable. I'm now allowing myself to keep a hold on Merlin and breathe him in while he pets my back and rest his head on top of mine.

"I missed you," I say, muffled into his skin.

It's like a novel, we're both snuggled up on a bridge, and soon we'll look into each other's eyes and inch closer and closer until we finally kiss. We'll confess our love for each other and I'll move into his place, and we'll live out the rest of our years like an old married couple. Or maybe I'll leave again and come back in a few months, a year, and I'll realise it always was him.

I would rather us stay together like this, I don't want to break apart from him yet. It's warm, he smells lovely, I can faintly hear his heart beating. As strange as it is to me, I'll be upset when we break apart from our embrace.

"I missed you more," he laughs, making me smile.

"You arsehole, _I_ missed you more." My lips brush against the hem of his sweater, I'm dangerously close to his skin. I'm certain I'm going to far, but at this point I couldn't care less.

"Harry, can we continue this at home? I'm freezing." He is faintly smiling, and I rest my lukewarm hands on his head for a moment.

We continue our walk home, and I keep my hand on his arm. I don't need to, of course, I can see him perfectly fine and I'm not going to lose him in an empty street at 10 pm. He doesn't mind me holding onto him. I think he may be in the same mindset as me.

Merlin is a little elusive to me still. Tomorrow I might be able to convince him to tell me more about himself, but that's a stretch. He seems to like shrouding himself in mystery. But it's infuriating to me, and I want to know about his life since I fucked off and became a tailor. For now, I can wait.

He's breathing out hot white clouds of air, and his breath shakes as he exhales. I walk closer to him, and apparently the hug, the 'I miss you's,' are now all forgotten. They're ancient history since we began the walk home. I am starting to wish we were still in that compromising pose, that I'd been looking up at him then. His eyes are soulful this time of night, and I likely won't get another chance to look into them tonight. They lay his soul bare now, yet he won't look at me.

I can't imagine he'd regret that embrace. He hasn't seemed particularly uncomfortable with hugging and overall closeness, I can't see what the problem is.

"Merlin?" I stop at the door, closing it behind me and watching him kick off his shoes without any acknowledgement.

He shrugs off his coat, I do the same with mine, our hands brush each other as we hang ours on the rack. His hand rests on mine. For a few moments, it feels like time has stopped. We're frozen in this position, Merlin watching me while I examine his hand on mine.

There's nothing significant about this. We'd held hands in the bar, we held hands outside the bar, we held hands thirty-six years ago, but there is something significant about it now. It's utterly tender. It feels pure and sweet. His hand resting on mine. One of his fingers brushing against one of my own. I see a sort of hesitance as he takes my hand, removing it from the coat rack. In the moment neither of us make a sound.

Merlin holds my left hand, his eyes trailing from it to my wrist, up my arm, and finally arriving from my neck to my face. The tension builds in the air. What is he going to do? Is this going to be the novel moment? If I was being honest, I'd imagined our 'I love you' scene was going to take place in the snow. He smiles at me, and pulls himself into me.

This won't last. He'll sober up, we'll both sober up, we'll wake up and forget the tenderness, the non-sexual intimacy shared tonight. I won't remember until Merlin has found his soulmate that isn't me, and I'll dread that tonight I did nothing. Or maybe that's all wrong.

Our relationship isn't worth sacrificing because I got sexually frustrated while tipsy at a gay bar.

"Do you have anything to drink here?" I am the one who pulls away. There's a fifty per cent chance it's the alcohol to blame, the other fifty per cent is wholly on me.

We camp out on the couch, drinking and flipping through movie channels until we find something good.


	6. Chapter 6

_Our parents have made a deal with us._

_We're camping, and they got tired of us sneaking out of our respective campers to hang out and stargaze, so they set out a tent for us to share so we didn't bother or scare them. Merlin sneaked into our camper last night to ask me if I wanted to take a walk, and my dad thought he was a murderer._

_Now we're zipped up in a chilly tent with two thin sleeping bags and wearing every piece of clothing we own to keep out the chill. At least the campers were insulated, I guess that's their way of getting back at us._ _Every time I turn I find a cold spot in my sleeping bag. I shiver, I think I begin to hear my teeth chatter. Merlin is much more accustomed to below-zero temps, I'm jealous. I could swear he's taking some kind of pleasure in seeing me suffer._

_I turn to face him, and he's lying on his back, grinning. Of course he packed appropriately for camping, I packed to satisfy my punk needs. I had holey shirts and one pair of trousers and mesh and nothing that provided much warmth. I'd snagged everything on thorns and bushes, which I thought made them look better, until the sun set and I was shivering and begging Merlin for a jumper._

_"You've told me on numerous occasions you think my jumpers are hideous, why would you want to commit such a travesty by wearing it?" He smirks, and pulls on another jumper. He only packed jumpers. My contempt for him is normally just a joke, but now I'm royally pissed at him._

_Now I'm staring at him, plotting what move I should make. Steal a jumper? Steal his sleeping bag?_

_He glances over to me and smiles._

_"Feeling like a git yet?" He looks proud of himself._

_I decide now is the time to make my move and I go completely off plan. I was going to coax him outside, let him get tired, then sneak in and steal both sleeping bags. But, that was too involved, and Merl wouldn't fall for it._

_"Move over." I pull myself out from my sleeping bag and stand over him, hands on my hips._

_He sits up, furrowing his brows in confusion._

_"What?" He watches me unzip his sleeping bag and begin to slip into it._

_"I'm sharing your sleeping bag." I zip it up and he takes to pushing on my back._

_He's laughing, and I'm doing just the same. I turn to face him and he pushes on my chest._

_"Harry, get out!" His voice is that of a stage whisper and his hands are resting on my completely flat pecs._

_I push forward, grabbing his hands in my own._

_"I'm sharing with you, no negotiation." I smile, it's much warmer in here with him than it was in my own cheap sleeping bag. I'd rather be staying back in the camper, but as it stands that isn't going to be happening._

_Merlin stops pressing on me and removes one hand from the sleeping bag to grab his torch._

_"What're you doing?" I stare up at him, quite dreamy-eyed no doubt, and watch him wave the light around the tent._

_"Checking to see if anyone's around." He settles down after a few moments of examination and finally settles down, turning back to me._

_I wiggle in closer and his hand immediately reaches up into my hair. He rakes his fingers through it smoothly and cups the back of my head in his hand. We'd tried kissing under the stars and while it was romantic, we weren't able to get more than three in before our parents came out of the campers to find us sprawled on the grass, thinking we'd died. We'd caused so much havoc in under two days it was astounding._

_"Pretty stupid to let us have our own tent," I snicker and his eyes turn dark._

_It's still fairly cold, even with Merlin holding me close and turning me on just by trailing his fingers under the collars of my many shredded shirts. I grin up at him and lean up into him, kissing him gently. Above me Merlin adjusts himself and finds a comfortable position to be kneeling over my lap, both hands resting on my face. We both settle into a rhythm of slightly grinding on each other for a while._

_I'd been wondering if I was a queer for a while, if he was a queer. While I did sleep with Merlin every chance we got, I didn't think that meant anything. It was those moments where we snuggled, kissed each other tenderly, told each other we loved each other, those one confused me. The sex was basically mindless. I'd lie there in the few moments after we'd stopped fucking, feeling like all was fine until he'd curl up close to me and gently kiss me until we tired out. I felt like I was sinning when we were romantic. But I loved being close, I loved being intimate, I loved smelling him on my clothes the next day._

_Merlin and I continue kissing, despite my angst. I sigh in a high tone when he moves his hand down my chest, resting it over my crotch. He smirks when I moan and laughs when I tilt my head back. My mouth hangs slack, taking in ice cold air that hurts my teeth._

_I gyrate my prick into his hand while he rubs me through my ripped trousers. He pushes my shirts down my shoulder, starting to nibble on the expanse of now-chilling skin. I whimper and move one hand to rest on his arse, my free arm moving up to my mouth. I bite down on my wrist and let out little pathetic noises while he progressively gets me hard. Merlin angles down so I can bite down on the crook of his neck._

_It takes a few moments for Merlin to unbutton my pants, but he is able to free my cock from my increasingly tight trousers. He makes me groan in a guttural way when he takes it in his hand._

_I moan, muffled, into Merlin's shoulder as he jerks me off. When I do it it feels amazing, of course, but when Merlin does it I can actually reach orgasm. I normally stop before climax always, my arm hurts too much and I've sufficiently pleasured myself by then. He keeps going until I buck my hips and bite down on a pillow to hold in my scream._

_Merlin takes intense joy in reducing me to heavy breathing and sighing. He kisses my temple and increases his speed while I try to wriggle out of my trousers and pants, anticipating full-on sex._

_"Oh,_ fuck _!"  I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning and ramming my pelvis up into his hand. Merlin laughs and trails kisses across my forehead._

_"Sh, sh, Harry, they'll hear us," his voice is soft in my ear._

_Both my hands reach up to his back, I ball them up in his shirt and bite the collar of his shirt. I know he would have happily jerked me off harder at the end if we could be loud, he loved making me shriek._

_It didn't take long for him to finish me off. I curl my toes and moan long, as quietly as I can manage. For a moment we stare at each other. This is one of those moments I dread. I lean up and kiss him, still panting for air while he trails pecks down my cheeks and jaw. My arms slink around his neck, I pull him down into a long kiss. It makes me feel strange. On one hand, I love kissing him. It's cheesy to say, but I'd take it over the sex. On the other, I feel some kind of hatred towards myself for engaging in romance like this. Sometimes I feel ashamed of myself reminiscing on it, but before and in the moment it's perfect._

_I break the kiss and Merlin's begun pulling something out of his pocket._

_"What have you got?" I watch him with heavy-lidded eyes, moving my hands from his shoulders to tug down my pants._

_"I brought lube, Dad wouldn't let me buy condoms so I stole it." He holds the tube out for me to see._

_"Alright," I smile quickly, before moving to undo his trousers and pants._

_I think Merlin's dad has a mistress, his mum is none the wiser. He told me before that his dad brings her home whenever his mum takes her monthly visit to see her sister in Edinburgh. Merlin got upset about it, but he didn't dare say anything to his mum. Instead he secretly resents his dad for it. He's told me how kinky the sex is, most everything they do I've wanted to do with him._

_Merlin has pulled off his pants and mine, we lie naked from the waist down. He applies the lube to himself before he does to me, and I try to peer out the tent. The light's on in Mum and Dad's camper. It's too late for them to be up, maybe they're getting worried about their faggot son staying in a tent with his equally-pansy friend._

_They know I'm having sex with Merlin, Dad has gotten bitterer over the past few months at me when I say I haven't found a girlfriend. Mum doesn't express that she hates what I'm doing, being religious like she is, but she tries to convince me to go to church and listen to men talk about how they were queer and turned to Jesus. That cleared it right up, they weren't fags once they read one fucking quote from the Bible about God hating fags. They don't allow Merlin to stay the night, we have to keep the door opened, and we can't be in the bathroom at the same time. They even monitored us going to the fucking movies, Dad had kept watch until thirty minutes till the end. In spite I blew Merlin and finished up towards ten minutes until the end of the film._

_At his house, though, his mum doesn't like to interfere. We spend days together over holidays, spending our nights cooped up in his room fucking till the wee hours. He has a lock on his door, and we aren't told we have to stay in different rooms if I stay the night. At my house Merlin stays in my room and I sleep on the couch. Hasn't stopped us from early-morning shower sex when they're not awake. I think my parents are probably convinced I'm a fag by my fashion sense alone, but I'm starting to believe they really are catching onto Merlin and I._

_I start sighing in pleasure again as Merlin lubes me up, ultimately fingering me while I lie back and prepare for a second orgasm. He sticks two fingers in, nearly making me shout 'FUCK' in the loudest tone I could manage. My chest rises and falls deeply, I want to reach up and bite his neck, suck it, leave bruises and hickeys that last for days. I push down the collar of his shirt and leave the hickeys and love bites on his shoulders._

_Merlin gives a tiny moan, it's satisfying hearing him moan for once. He slides a third finger into me as some kind of revenge for making him do that._

_"_ Fuck _, Merlin!" I whine into his neck, while he fucks me with his fingers. I'm erect, I'm shivering with pleasure and begging him to fuck me properly._

_We're far enough away from both the campers that we're able to make some noise, but I'm being too loud. Merlin revels in the sound, but I feel like a git for allowing myself to be loud. My parents will hear, his will hear, they'll come out to the tent and unzip it, finding Merlin hovering over me and fucking me senseless._

_I take the worn-down pillow from my sleeping bag and bite on it while Merlin finger-fucks me. He thrusts his three fingers in deep, eliciting deep groans from me. My legs clamp together as he thrusts faster, working them around so he can fit himself into me in just a few moments. He grabs my hip with one hand and holds it tightly while I'm working my way towards climax._

_He seems dedicated to causing me anguish. I want to scream out and properly express how fucking good it is, but I have to shut myself up even in the woods. Merlin cups my arse in his free hand while he fingers me. I bite him, I groan and bite while he makes this simultaneously amazing and dreadful._

_A fourth finger thrusts in. I groan loudly, I can't speak intelligibly anymore. I can't swear at him, I can't tell him how much I want him to fuck me, all I can do is try to shut myself up until the good part. I feel almost a little angry that he's forcing me to worry about our parents finding us in any number of compromising positions. They'd separate us for good, I'd heard Dad say he'd send me to conversion therapy since it was too late to send me to an asylum._

_I feel my eyes roll back in my head and I lie back, moaning roughly into the pillow while I start to hit my climax._

_Merlin starts sucking on some skin around my cock, his tongue flicks across the base and I tremble as I start feeling it coming on. I decide to masturbate to bring it on quicker, it's absolute torture waiting for him to stop teasing me. He thrusts a few fingers in deep enough to hit my prostate, after some coaxing and quick thrusts of my hand I finally cum._

_He licks the cum off while I lie back, giving the same heavy breathing I did earlier. Not sure I'll last for three, but I'm not going to stop him._

_I raise my legs up, arching them and letting them lie far enough apart to fit Merlin between them. He grabs my hips, not letting me a moment before he starts working up to penetration. The head slips in quite easily, but as he starts trying to push any further length into me it becomes rough. I smirk up at him as he groans as the tightness. He tries to ease his cock in but I doubt it's that comfortable to ease it in._

_Merlin allows me to hold one of his hands while he thrusts in, effectively stretching me out again. We find rhythm again once he's starting rocking his hips. I lace my legs with his, supporting him for when he cums and gets weak in the knees like he has before. I pull myself in close to him, my face tucked into his neck while he builds up speed. He's warm and comforting right now, still kissing me and giving soft moans in my ear as he thrusts deeper into me or thrusts faster._

_I sigh and moan with every moment we continue to fuck, it's building up in my stomach and I want to cum as quickly as possible. If we'd been going rougher I'd have been done in a few minutes, but fucking over the course of ten or twenty minutes is exhausting. And less safe._

_He takes some more lube and drizzles it on while still in me, rubbing it on and suppressing a soft moan. It feels slicker now, I calm down slightly as he continues to thrust. He begins to roughen it up after a while and gets me to groan in a voice deeper than I thought I had. A light flicks on in Merlin's parent's camper, and I swear I can hear our parents meet in the middle and start chatting._

_"Hurry up," I whine as quietly as possible, watching the silhouettes of our parents instead of watching him. I'd prefer to be looking straight at him. For a moment I turn back to him and feel utterly aroused again._

_We fuck roughly, I rock against him while he thrusts deeper. He settles his face into my neck and he bites my shoulder just as he's beginning to cum. I groan, digging my (painted) nails into him as we both manage to silence ourselves. I feel utterly soothed as I cum, I throw my head back and sigh loudly. My breathing is ridiculously fast. I lean up to kiss him for a quick second, but he immediately ducks into my sleeping bag, leaving me to pull my trousers and pants into the sack, then bury his under the pillow._

_Our parents come in about ten minutes later, to find Merlin acting like he'd just woken up while I'm pretending to be asleep. My face is red and they'd ask questions immediately about what we'd been doing._

_We'd been staring at each other, smiling, exchanging chaste kisses until they showed up. I listen in as Merlin describes that there were teenagers having sex out near the lake._

_"Then who was it that yelled 'Merlin?'" His mother asks, and I forget how thick her accent is._

_"I kicked Harry on accident."_

_They still don't believe him._

_"The tent was shaking." It's now my dad talking. "Harry, wake up and tell us what the hell happened."_

_I sit up slowly, now trying to convince them I'd only woken up when they barged in._

_Our parents are looking between us, completely pissed and displeased at what they're assuming (quite correctly) happened._

_"I was fighting him because he kicked me and wouldn't apologise." I look over at Merlin. "Beat your arse, too."_

_He grabs me and ruffles my hair, like that'll drive the point home._

_My mum backs off, and his dad does just the same. We're left arguing with Merlin's mum and my dad. Apparently she can catch onto us having sex but not her husband cheating on her in plain sight._

_Even if we disappoint them because we fuck, at least they'll have the consolation that we're not in a relationship and at any time I could choose to fuck a girl just to make my parents happy._

_"Sure. Sure that's what happened." Dad glares at me._

_I pull away from Merlin and stare daggers back at my dad. "You have no proof we did anything. The only proof you could have is if you found us fucking."_

_Dad kneels in the tent, frowning as he inspects me. Merlin mussed up my hair further, so he couldn't prove it by sex hair._

_Merlin's mum does the same, and immediately finds the hickeys and love bites on his neck and shoulders. Dad checks the same spots and sure enough he starts shaking his head and looking utterly disappointed._

_"We didn't have sex. We made out. We got too intense and then we stopped. If you want, we won't do it again." Merlin explains. I knew it was going to happen. I knew they'd find out to some extent._

_Dad sighs, and steps away._

_"I can't believe my son's actually a faggot."_

_He walks out, all our parents leave. Merlin tries to cheer me up after they've left to bed, he tries to cuddle up to me and kiss me and tell me it's all going to be okay. I keep my back turned to him, I feel like I'm going to start bawling at any minute now._

_Merlin pets my arm, and reassures me we'll be okay once more._

_"_ No _, we won't!" I sit up after his prodding, utterly annoyed by his optimism. "We won't be fucking okay! We're stupid fucking morons for having sex out in the open, we're going to be forced apart because we couldn't control ourselves! Just because we couldn't keep it in our trousers and now our friendship is ruined for good! The fact we had sex at all is disgusting enough."_

_I shake, I start crying out of anger and Merlin turns away while I cry. Behind my back, I think he's crying, too. For a while we sit at our own corners of the tent. I can't help but regret everything I've done since we both turned our friendship into an improper relationship. I can't believe I let myself ruin it._

_There's no way I'm going to be able to live with myself over this._

_After we've gotten teary-eyed and depressed over being caught, I decide to face him again. Now_ his _face is red. I sigh internally, I can't look at him like this._

_"I'm so sorry, Merlin. It's all my fault. We can't. . .we can't see each other like this anymore."_

_He holds me close, I wish I had the guts to tell him to get off of me._

_"No, no. Harry, we can keep it secret. We can learn how to keep it secret, no one will ever know we're together."_

_I sigh. I kiss him softly, and I sit back. That's the last kiss I'll ever give him._

_"It's easier to lie. I'm sorry." I'm starting to get teary-eyed knowing it's the last time I'm allowing myself to be like this. It's the last time I'm allowing myself to be a queer. I don't want to be like this. With Merlin I actually feel a little more comfortable with myself being queer, but really, I don't feel comfortable at all being like this anymore._

_He gets up, he puts on his pants and trousers and starts gathering his things. Merlin stops to stare at me a moment before he leaves. His eyes are red when he leaves._

_That night I spend alone in the tent, I wonder why I tried it with Merlin in the first place. It wasn't worth it. No matter how good the sex was, no matter how much I loved kissing him and cuddling up to him and spending my night wrapped up in his arms, none of this was worth it. He didn't deserve this. He's got a few years left with his parents, I've just ruined the last few he has to spend with them._

_Tonight I've sobbed more than I care to for the rest of my life._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me long. I hit a bout of writer's block on this one, according to the date I last put on it this was supposed to be up on the ninth. I'm glad I finished it though, and I'm certain I'll make someone happy with this one. Possibly a bit too much angst on Harry's part, but hopefully it will be worth it.

I regret it. How could I not regret breaking my best friend's heart?

It is a little strange how quickly he warmed back up to me after what I did. I feel a bit sorry for him, I can't imagine what it must have felt like. I even feel a bit like I may be manipulating him to start caring for me again.

Merlin's resting on me, his head is on my chest and I have been watching him sleep. I don't like being left to my own thoughts like this, at least not this late and after having remembered something so bad. Staring at him doesn't help the matter. But I'm stuck under him and the remote it out of grasp. I can't quite tell, but I think he's smiling.

He'd moved over to lie on me as some kind of 'take-that' for me avoiding to sleep close to him the night before. Initially I thought he was going to crush me, but he settled down in a way that didn't hurt after a while. I didn't mind too much, I could settle quite happily beneath Merlin.

We'd been drinking, talking quite mindlessly about a few men we saw at the club. Merlin had commented about how everyone wore skinny jeans and how he'd pay for me to wear one of my old pairs of vinyl trousers, I laughed and called him a pervert. I responded that I would have given him all my savings to see him wear the same.

Then he lied down on me and chatted how I'd gotten a bit chubby, and then remarked he's be surprised if I could even fit into my vinyl trousers. I slapped his cheek, in response he gave me puppy-dog eyes. I melted under pressure and rubbed his cheek while he fell asleep.

I found it a bit funny how easily Merlin could fall asleep, especially with someone petting his face and chatting nothing at him. I'd begun to fall asleep when he elbowed me in the stomach. It's like when a dog falls asleep on you and you don't want to move him. But it's a bald drunk man who I wouldn't move if my life depended on it.

I've been staring at him for nearly an hour. Something about watching him is serene. He doesn't move much when he sleeps, he's a literal log. Weighs less than I imagined he would, but I'm still trapped.

He's turned his head and his eyes begin flickering open. I sigh gently as he adjusts himself, he keeps nudging me and causing friction where it's not wanted. Merlin looks up at me, laughing softly as he rubs one of his eyes.

"Sorry, Harry," he moves himself to the other side of the sofa.

"It's fine." I smile at him, reaching my arm over the back.

We continue to chat as if he hadn't just fallen asleep on me. He settles at the other side of it.

"What do you want to do now?" He bumps his foot against my ankle. I hadn't realised that he moves his legs unconsciously.

"You're not suggesting we actually _do_ something, are you?" I grin as he begins to stand.

He leaves the room, to his bedroom. I wonder if I should follow him. He likely is just changing into pyjamas, nothing for me to intrude upon. I have no doubt he wants to be comfortable for the rest of the night. I feel that I should do the same myself.

But I choose to wait. My eyes wander and I don't need to explain why I'm staring at his trouser fronts for no other reason than that's where my eyes go. I stare into space, my eyes directed at the door still. I'm still convinced I'm pushing too many boundaries with him. Even now I'm convinced I've hurt him too badly to repair that aspect of our relationship. There's no chance we're ever going to be romantically involved again.

I should be resigned to that fact. I blew it back then and I have to handle the consequences. Adolescent stupidity led to me ruining the one relationship I could actually see myself having back then. My eyes wander away from the door to find one beer bottle that wasn't finished. I take it and down it in one go. Imagining Merlin and I as an actual couple seems ridiculous. I don't want to imagine myself kissing him now, or curling up with him on the sofa to watch the news, or even give him affectionate stares across the kitchen table. It doesn't feel right to do that. I have to be responsible. Merlin is just my friend. He deserves better than the likes of me.

He emerges from his bedroom wearing boxers and a t-shirt, looking like he's already done his whole routine in the span of the few minutes I was pondering to myself. I'm knocked back to reality by the smell of aloe vera. He yawns into his arm and commences making me feel a bit unreasonably uncomfortable. We sit in silence for a few moments.

"What did you do when I was asleep?" He blinks slowly.

"Nothing. Didn't want to wake you up." I smile to myself.

He leans in and kisses my cheek, chuckling under his breath. Then, as if none of that happened, he gets up and starts throwing out the empty beer bottles.

For a moment I felt comfortable. I felt like I belonged here with him. For a second I could convince myself that I could see myself with him. My head feels lazy and numb and I don't want to leave this state. The pressure I feel evaporates as I settle into the sofa, knowing I'll have to get up and change and go to bed. I'll wear out of this. But for the time being, I'm happy. I feel like I can let myself relax.

He comes in for another handful of bottles, I look up in subtle admiration. Maybe this was what I had felt when we were teens. Something about him is alluring, I can't tell exactly what it is, but he's dragging me in.

Merlin smiles for only a moment before he leaves for the kitchen again. I decide to go get ready for bed. It'll leave me for more isolated thought.

However, that's not entirely resolved my problem. He follows me into the bedroom and nearly follows me into the bathroom. I close the door and wash up. I find that I don't have much else to think about. Merlin is drunk, people do things they wouldn't when drunk, but when they do those things it's normally things they've buried to the back of their mind when they're sober. At least I've heard. Over the years my alcohol tolerance has grown from one drink and I'd be hammered to about five without slurring or missing a beat. But I haven't really counted past five. I haven't done anything regrettable when I'm counting how much I'm drinking.

Flirting with my apprentice Gary, very much a mistake (he took to it, but not something I will admit to secretly being proud of). Telling my boss at the first shop I ever worked at to 'bugger off' after I incorrectly repaired a breast pocket. Making fun of Merlin's buzzcut because his parents thought his moptop was making him girly.

Maybe he won't regret it. He's likely better at handling things like this, he's had more experience with romance than I have. I only know what I know from the few movies I've seen where the leads fall in love. It's never similar to Merlin and I. From that I deduced we aren't in love. I know it's not supposed to follow the movies but they are a sort of guideline, aren't they?

I go back out to grab my pyjamas from my suitcase. It's when I'm heading back towards the bathroom I notice Merlin watching me.

"I hadn't said before, you look better without the badly-smudged eyeliner and the fluffy"--he gestures to his head--"hair. Very handsome with a coif." He turns back to a book on his lap.

Without saying anything I return to the bathroom. Merlin is doing his best to bother me, isn't he? It all seems to good to be true that just when I thought I lost him he's making it clear that he still is interested. It's either a drunk thing or a dick thing.

He isn't focused on me when I come back out, folding my wrinkled clothes into my suitcase. I'll iron them tomorrow morning. He's now seemed to have buried his nose into that book. I slide into the bed beside him, curling up under the covers. Much more comfortable than being pinned underneath him. He hadn't looked up when I got in, and now I'm becoming curious at what could be so fascinating. I begin to manoeuvre myself to catch a glimpse of the spine. It's more difficult than I imagined it would be.

Merlin soon notices my odd movements, and he closes the book.

He flips it around to show me the cover.

" _Emma_? You read Jane Austen?" I settle back into my spot in bed and he laughs softly.

"If you remembered anything, you'd know we read it in class and I loved it." He flips it back open where his thumb had been keeping his place, and continues to read.

I sit up a bit, continuing to watch him read.

"If you're going to be so upset about my shot memory, then what's my favourite novel?" I put on a teasing voice.

Merlin smiles before he answers.

" _The Great Gatsby_. You were the only one in class who liked it. You wrote that huge report about it at the end of the year, _remember_?" He turns his dark eyes to me for a moment. I admire them, but my odd stares don't deter him. "You called me 'Old Sport' once and we made up a story about Gatsby and Nick having sex."

"How is it that you know more about myself than I do?" He smirks at me when I ask that question.

"When you love someone deeply, you don't forget anything about them. It's precious information."

I wonder if he's being completely honest. I also have to wonder if he means in the past when I was certain we loved each other, or if he is, in fact, saying he does love me still.

"Then I'm horrible at romance. I've only had two memories of us since I came back here and I scarcely know anything about you." I glance at the blocks of text in his book, I can't make out any phrases.

"What memories?" He closes the book again, now his full attention is on me.

I don't feel comfortable reminding him of our breakup. There's no etiquette for saying to your ex "Remember when our parents found out we'd had sex and I broke up with you? Remember how your eyes were red with tears and I crushed your heart under my platform boot?" I'll either have to rephrase it or not bring it up at all. But it's just as good as lying if I withhold that from him.

"I've only remembered the time we were hanging out with James and Percy and then we went to that meadow we used to like. And that time we went camping. When our parents were disappointed in us for having sex." I try to stop myself, but I can't. My brain isn't connecting, I can't shut myself up. "You cried, it was the worst sound I'd ever heard. I was cruel and gave up on our relationship."

I could swear my eyes burn as I look down at my hands crossed over my lap. I'm being a coward. I look back up at Merlin, he's barely reacting at all. At best he looks confused.

"If I hadn't been so daft I wouldn't have ruined what we had." I'm being daft now and ruining what we currently have. I think it's more than I deserve, I love having Merlin in my life, but he deserves more than me. Someone who won't ditch him because it's becoming hard to be together, someone who won't abandon him in any circumstance. "I feel like I've committed some horrible crime with what I've done to you. It's only been, what? Two days since you came back into my life? It took me this long to remember what broke us apart. I'm so sorry I did that, Merlin. I want you to know now that I would never hurt you like that again. What I did then was stupid and terrible. You're my best friend, I couldn't imagine doing that now."

Merlin, for a moment, turns away from me. I feel lighter, the guilt has nearly evaporated. But I still don't feel like I've resolved anything with him. I feel like I should take that spot on the couch I was preparing myself for earlier. Just before I can leave the bed, he grabs onto my arm.

I turn back, finding a man reduced to a small child. He gives a tiny sniffle like he had become emotional, and he is lying down now.

"Please stay. I want you here." His voice is gentler still and his tired eyes lock on mine.

I contemplate it for half a second. I shuffle back into my spot, turn on my side and settle down with him. He rests an arm on my side through the covers. I decide to rest both my hands on his shoulders, neatly closing the gap between us. His hand moves from my side to rest just above the small of my back. I instinctively rest my face into his chest, and his chin rests on my head.

"Your hair's soft," he murmurs.

"You smell nice like this," I grin softly as we remain embraced. I feel his lips rest on my head, likely kissing my hair.

"I don't, stop lying." He sounds like he's smiling. That's enough to make me happy.

I look up at him, my eyelids beginning to grow heavy.

"Whatever it is you do, you always smell good. I love it." I've stopped caring at this point if I'm crossing any friendly boundaries. It's cheering him up, he's smiling and talking like a moron, and that cheers me up just the same.

He moves to smell me, then rests his head there for a moment.

"You're so warm. Didn't you used to be the cold-blooded one?" He places a soft kiss on my jaw. I give the same weak smile at him.

"I'm not surprised, _northerner_."

He knows I'm not trying to insult him, he laughs at my comment. We pull ourselves into the same position we had been in, just after he flips off the light.

"Goodnight," I whisper into his chest.

"Goodnight," he responds in a sleepy tone of voice.

It's been the first time in ages that I ever had an amazing sleep. Even curled up with him I'm still comfortable, hearing the drum of his heartbeat is like a melody. I feel like I'm being defended when he holds me like this.

I hope that when we wake up this won't have all just been a one-night thing. I really do hope that we can still be like this.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one asked for the bitch to keep writing, but I NEED to finish it now. I've finally got the entire plot lied out and I think it's going to be great. I am hoping that will make it easier for me to finish chapters much more quickly. It's also looking out that this story is going to be around twenty chapters. Maybe someone is going to find this news exciting.

When I woke up, Merlin had made me his little spoon. I didn't want to remove myself from his grip, his arm draped over my side and his hand resting on the upper half of my stomach. For a while I lied there, eyes drifting closed again as he continued to sleep. Obviously waking up to find yourself being spooned is preferable to waking up alone and cold. My regret has nearly faltered. It was a bit childish to react to Merlin like that, it must have come off like I was avoiding him and rejecting what I wanted, too. My hand drifts to rest on top of his, I grasp it gently. It's such a simple action, to some it doesn't even register as something tender. I'm not sure why I find this gesture to be intimate any way, it's nothing more than holding onto the hand of another person. I've never understood why hand-holding is so romantic.

His hands are cold now. I hold his hand closer to me, enjoying the feeling of this. I smile wearily to myself, faintly a smile at all. My expression fades after a while, I simply lie there while I wait for him to wake up, or finally notice what I'm doing. Lying here with Merlin. I could wait for another hour for him to wake up, I wouldn't mind. Pressed close to him, holding his hand, feeling his breath on the back of my neck. It's soothing in a way I haven't ever known before. I feel like we've already reached the moment when a cheesy love song plays over the credits and the film is over. However, it's too soon for that. We haven't had our big romantic gesture scene. It doesn't feel right to equate our relationship to a movie, but that's the first way it comes to me. It also doesn't feel fair to imagine this about him.

My eyelids begin to flicker shut, when I feel short, hot puffs of air on my neck. A gentle laugh follows it, and it nearly startles me. I sit up quickly, to find Merlin lying on his side, grinning crookedly as he follows me.

"You're great at faking sleep." I give a slight, fast smile.

"My eyes weren't closed," he reaches his hand out, taking mine while I let it lay flat and awkward.

He watches me as I try to manoeuvre my hand to squeeze his. I feel a bit young and giddy, it's strange. He doesn't seem to mind how I'm acting.

"I liked how you held my hand. What's wrong?" He brushes his thumb across the side of my index finger. My eyes don't stray from our hands.

"Nothing. I thought you didn't like it." I attempt my best dismissive tone, I don't think he believes me.

"I do." His voice falters as he continues talking. "I'd like it if we did this more often."

Our eyes lock together, and I part my lips to speak. But I say nothing.

At this point I'm not exactly surprised by things like this. The kiss and cuddling from last night, I woke up being spooned, there's no doubt that he's interested. What am I supposed to say to that? 'Marry me and adopt a dog with me?'

I sigh, refusing to retract my hand.

"Do you want to be like this?" I try to gesture and fail miserably. "Do you want us to be together?"

He drags me into the bathroom, only letting go of my hand to turn on the faucet and grabs his toothbrush. I do the same in some attempt to distance myself from the conversation. I don't have any reason to be avoiding this. Hadn't I already told myself that I wasn't going to act like this?

We brush our teeth simultaneously, in the mirror I watch him. Our reflected shared gaze isn't broken until he leans down and spits. I continue brushing a bit longer, then when I spit and come back up, Merlin's shaving.

"Do _you_ want to get together again?" He washes the razor under the faucet, giving a quick side-glance at me.

I set out his aftershave on the edge of the basin. I keep myself focused on our conversation. I know I'll find a way to say something I don't mean.

"I'm not sure." My eyes lock on the water spiraling down the drain. "I do." I nearly murmur.

Merlin and I maintain eye contact through the mirror.

"I was going to say the same," his voice is warm.

"So fast?" I now turn to face him. I tilt my body just slightly, his eyes are quite soft now.

"We've known each other since we were teenagers, Harry."

"Technically. But I barely know anything about you now." I look him over him, and he takes a long blink, turning back to the mirror a brief moment before his eyes rest back onto me.

I shave in silence, he doesn't try to converse with me. He must think I'm concentrating on not nicking myself but he could easily have started the conversation up again. As I rinse the excess shaving cream off, he continues to speak.

"What else is there to know? We can't have changed so much that we're entirely alien to each other." He sets his aftershave back in the cupboard underneath the sink.

I feel like he is still foreign.

"I'm not sure." I pause, taking a small glance at him. The romantic eyes from last night are gone, utterly. It's a bit disheartening. "Why are you still close with me after the break up and the thirty-six years we haven't seen each other?" I apply my aftershave he despises, he isn't looking at me now.

We both exit the bathroom. I settle down on the foot of the bed, Merlin sitting down beside me. His hand rests between us, like he yearns to reach out and grab my hand resting on my thigh, but he's telling himself he can't. That now he is restricting himself.

Now I'm not sure if he just doesn't want to answer the question or if I'd made him upset.

"I'm sorry," I begin to say, but he cuts me off.

"I haven't given up hope that we'd reconcile. Is it not common for people who spend over half their lives knowing each other to care for each other even in absence?" He smiles in a bitter way. I now reach my hand out, ours meet in the middle for a few moments.

For that while we hold hands, I relax. Our fingers lace together, his surprisingly soft fingertips rub across my calloused ones. I turn to him, smiling gently and looking back down at our intertwined hands. It makes me feel like a kid. Getting excited over holding hands with someone you had a crush on. But for the most part, this just made me feel supported. Like leaning up against a wall, knowing there is little to no way you'll fall. I feel stable for the time being.

When we eventually let go of each other, it feels almost wrong. I feel like I should be holding him again. I busy myself with something else to ignore the thought.

I dig into my suitcase for a comfortable outfit, one of only two I happened to bring. I turn to him, setting my outfit on my lap as he sets his own arms back into his lap. For a few moments we sit in silence, and for that while it does not feel unbearable. I am not sure if this is an affect of finally starting to warm back up to my friend, or simply an adverse reaction to his actions from the previous night. My eyes wander across him as he gets up, drawing his clothes out of his dresser and coming back.

He sets them on the bed and almost as if I'm not there, begins removing his pants right in front of me. I turn away, for discretion's sake, and find my eyes drifting from his prick to the jumper lying atop the pile of clothing. A deep charcoal knit monstrosity, seemingly having become unraveled and frayed at the hems over a long lifetime of wear. Sewn into the shoulders are thick square patches of imitation suede. A few small holes have made their way into the knit over the years, along with numerous snags and even what looks like a rip in the armpit.

It takes me a long moment, but I finally come to realise it was the jumper I made him as a going away present. I feel a tense beat of my heart as I run my fingers over it a brief moment.

I follow his hand, smiling fondly as he pulls the jumper on and admires it for a moment.

"How long have you had this?" I rest my hand underneath the jumper, displaying to him a hole in the knitting.

"Ever since you gave it to me." He looks it over, and I notice an ugly stain on one of the suede patches.

"When did you last wash it?" I stand up, running a finger over the faux suede inset.

"I haven't in a while, admittedly. One of the last times I did it got caught in the dryer and I didn't want to risk ruining it." He touches his fingertips to mine as I begin to retract my hand from the jumper.

In a way, I feel some flattery from him keeping the jumper. It wasn't my best work, but he seems to adore it. It's clearly over-worn and beloved. If I could remember correctly, the day I gave it to him, he was very underwhelmed with it. Now seeing him having worn it enough to do damage to it, it makes me feel rosy.

"I'm sorry about the wear," he sees me admiring him in it, and smiles gently. "I thought you wanted me to wear it as much as possible, I took that advice too literally."

"Don't apologise, it's nice knowing you like it." I start putting on my own clothes, and he takes the time to do a once-over. It isn't totally unwelcome.

* * *

Merlin has a client, I've stuck myself in his bedroom and taken on repairing his beloved jumper. I've been admiring him for a long while since he brought up the jumper, and have found it somewhat off of me. It was one of the first pieces of clothing I ever made myself, it wasn't great and I keep finding myself disgusted with it when I find shoddy stitch-work and loose threads. How badly I tried to blend the grey thread into the brown thread, I find it hard to believe he kept it because he actually liked it and thought it was well-made.

Once he's done fixing another laptop I'm going to ask why he bothered with it. I don't believe his original answer he gave me over breakfast.

"Because I loved you and I thought it was incredibly kind that you made it for me." He hesitated on saying 'loved,' it felt awkward. "I quite like the jumper."

I'm now glad I brought up a repair kit. I restitch some pulled threads, I even begin to consider just dismantling the disaster and fixing it back up properly. However, if I change too much, I feel that I will have demolished the sentimental value of the jumper. Or made it a bit more endearing.

I can't believe I would have let him get away with wearing this. While my sense of style back in the day wasn't exactly en vogue, I at least had the sensibility that jumpers with shoulder patches looked ridiculous as a fashion statement.

For now I stick to simple repairs. I don't need to consider if I'm upsetting Merlin by changing a jumper he's loved for ages. He adores it in a way I can't understand. However, I assume that if he had made me something similar, I'd be grinning ear-to-ear and never let it leave my sight. The jumper is itchy, of course I chose wool yarn instead of a synthetic material but then cheaped out on the shoulder patches, opting for imitation suede. He either doesn't notice or bears it like a saint.

It's a monotonous task to fix up a jumper, especially one that I barely remember constructing. I've nearly stabbed myself with the needle while being lost in thought. But, that doesn't stop me.

I can hear muffled chatter in the kitchen, making out Merlin's accent in opposition to the shrill inflection of what I assume to be an old woman.

"You dropped it?" He asks calmly, I imagine him writing down everything she did to the laptop in order to break it to the point that she needed him to fix it.

"Yes, but I thought these things would be sturdier! What I paid for it, I'd think it could survive a hurricane!"

He sighs gently, tapping on a few keys.

"How did you manage to black out half the screen?" He asks more to himself than to her.

"I don't know! I dropped it and then I opened it up and it looked like this. You'd better fix it!" Apparently her fault is now Merlin's, and he doesn't seem to even be listening to her barking anymore.

After a few moments of silence, I manage to finish up stitching up the rest of the jumper. But, I'm invested now, I can barely manage to get myself to stand up and throw the jumper into the washer and dryer.

"You're going to need to replace the screen." He stands up from his chair, I hear the legs screech against the hardwood floor. "About £63 for that repair, it'll take me an hour at most."

"Will the hour cost me extra?"

"No. I'm only charging you for the screen repair. Unfortunately I don't have one the size for your laptop on me right now, I'll have to order one for you. Come back tomorrow, it'll be ready for you then."

I decide to watch from the doorway as Merlin finishes his conversation with her, and I find myself almost gazing at him.

"I thought you were good at your job. You'd already be done if you were any good!" The old woman turns to the doorway, finding me standing there, likely an odd expression plastered on my face. "Make sure he doesn't wreck it." She says in a cold tone as she leaves.

Once she's almost slammed the door, Merlin exhales every shred of air in his lungs.

"I'm glad they're not always home visits." He turns to me, smiling upon seeing me.

"Do you really need to order a different screen for her?" I hold the jumper behind my back, leaning against the wall to make the action seem more casual.

He laughs, going to look through numerous boxes he's got stacked around his desk. He pulls out what I immediately liken to the Monolith, and holds it out cautiously.

"Good thing for me, everyone here's got the same laptop. Makes my job much easier." Merlin sets it down on the kitchen table next to the laptop, and then comes back to stand with me.

"Well, why didn't you just kick her out for an hour and repair it today?" I sound rather coquettish, very unintentionally so, and he seems to enjoy it.

His smile is quite sincere, it almost doesn't look like it belongs on his face.

"If I'm being honest, I wanted her out so I could be with you again." His attention is drawn from me to my hand resting behind my back.

He rests his hand on my arm, pulling it out with no resistance on my part to find the fully-repaired jumper.

"I was going to ask if I could wash it and dry it for you." He holds it up as I explain, smiling fondly at the fixed-up abomination.

He follows me into the kitchen, watching as I set the washer. I search through his cupboard, attempting to find a fabric softener to remedy the wool's itch. When I find nothing, I retreat to the bedroom and search through my bag, in hopes I'd carried a sample from the hotel. 

Merlin's standing in the doorway now, knocking gently on the frame as I look through my bags casually. I curse to myself, having searched to the bottom of each case and found nothing.

"What do you need?" He rests his shoulder against the door frame, I glance from him back to my bag.

"I thought I had something in here, I don't, however. Would you mind if I went to the store?" It feels odd that I'm insisting on going out to get fabric softener that I don't actually need. I'm sure Merlin doesn't like the stuff anyway if he doesn't have any in his house.

"No, of course not. Would you mind if I tagged along?"

I shake my head quickly. "No, I need your opinion, anyway."

Like when we both went to put our coats on the rack, as we took our coats our hands brush against each other, but we didn't stop when it happened.

We walk closely together, our shoulders bumping against each other and we walk in near silence. In my hand I hold the bag, now he's forcing me to follow him somewhere else.

In the store, he drifted down the aisle and picked up a few different bottles, asking me what worked best.

"I'm not great as washing clothes, what would you choose?" He set them in front of me, and I picked out one with flowers and a night sky on the bottle.

"I like this brand, just not the scent." I find floral scents irritating.

He nodded, going back and picking out the other two scents that brand offered. "Alright, so would you prefer Fresh Linens or Cashmere Mist?"

I dipped my nose in too far, getting the liquid on my nose. I may just be sensitive to the scents in general. Pale blue detergent drips down into the divot above my lip. As I rubbed off the liquid I caught a glimpse Merlin laughing into his hand.

"Cashmere Mists seems feminine. Like you have a partner who you sleep with occasionally and she washes your clothes." I set it back with the others.

"I don't really mind what the scent is, I can't really smell much of anything to begin with." He walked beside me as we got a few more minor groceries.

"You can't smell?" I cocked an eyebrow. Finally, getting more information on him. If I had the nerve I would have gone asking more questions. 'What's your favourite food?' 'What's your favourite tea?' 'Do you believe in soulmates?' 'Have you ever rented a car?' 'Where would you honeymoon?' 'What would you name a dog?' It feels more natural to simply prod into questions he's already dug himself into answering, however.

"Barely. I got into a fight with some boy a year older than me after you left, he punched me in the nose and found a way to damage the nerves. I'm just glad I haven't gotten carbon monoxide poisoning yet." He picked out a loaf of bread and placed it into the basket, then looked over to me. "I couldn't tell you what I thought you smelled like."

I nod, my hand resting on his arm a brief second before I catch myself and let go. Something about being in public, it makes me uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't be able to tell." I watch him. He walks a bit stiff, like a boarding school boy.

"The most I can tell is your aftershave reeks of alcohol. Things like that, I can tell what they smell like rather easily." He turns to me, his eyes have reverted to that soft look that made them alluring.

We made small talk while we finished up grocery shopping, and now here we are. He's been leading me in all directions, the most I can do is wonder where he's taking me.

I've been thinking over last night. Why had I acted so comfortable cuddled up with him? There hadn't been anything forcing me to actually cuddle with him, actually like it like I had. Then when I got emotional over that memory, that was the nail in the metaphorical coffin. I'm now utterly embarrassed of myself. But it felt right at the time. Though I may be an impulsive drunk, in the moment I loved it.

I glance at him, now finding it stupid that I'm overanalyzing a simple cuddle. I'm repressing a part of myself that is foolish to repress, especially when I'm basically being invited to act on that part of myself.

Merlin is much more comfortable in his sexuality than I am, I'd think. A person who is totally certain and sure of themselves just lets their identity be, they express it at the appropriate times and they keep it restrained when they feel is necessary. Then there's me. I've come to basically repress my sexuality daily, to the point where I'm uncertain how I feel about any man I see. Any sign of fondness, any hug or brush of fingers against my own instantly comes off as romantic and confusing. I feel that I am exclusively interested in Merlin, but I'm not sure if I'd say I'm in love with him, infatuated with him, or simply interested in the idea of having sex with him.

He faces me, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Apparently I've been wearing my thoughts on my face. I turn back to him, smiling in an apologetic way.

"Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about something." I try to think if I should distance myself from him, or if I should lean in closer.

"Was it about last night?" His voice only hints at him being worried, but I couldn't be certain.

I'm becoming nervous now, I don't want to talk to him about any of my confusion. I'd keep that reserved to myself as long as humanly possible.

He must have had it on his mind, as well. While I am fully adjusted to overthinking and getting too involved in my thoughts, I don't want him to be burdening himself with this.

"To an extent." I find myself staring at the ground just in front of my feet.

"I have been, too. I thought it was nice." His voice swells, I glance up to him and see him smiling at me. He doesn't often show his teeth when he smiles. But they're never fake, his eyes always turn warm when he smiles. He just doesn't gesture that broadly.

"In the way that it was nice as a one-time thing, or nice in the way that you'd like to do it again?"

He grabs my arm suddenly, pulling me back onto the curb. I drop the bag in a shock. A car comes whooshing past. So caught up in listening to him and watching the ground I nearly got run over. In the scuffle I was pulled up into him, he cups the back of my shoulder for a moment. I find it reassuring. I reach my hand up to wrap around him, but he's broken us apart by the time my fingers are resting against the back of his neck. Once he's let go I pick my bag back up and we cross the street.

"I find it funny you are basically confirming you're interested in getting back together but then you go and try to get yourself hit." He continues to lead me, now gripping onto my arm to keep me near. "I'd actually be quite happy if we were in a relationship again. It just comes down to you feeling comfortable again."

Now the fate of our relationship rests on me. If I wasn't already a bit nervous in a way, I would be now. We make a B-line towards a menagerie of trees. I follow him through the trees, smiling as we go.

"I wouldn't wait up on me, if I'm being honest." I say, stepping into the clearing.

It looks just as I remembered. Overgrown grass, a few scattered flowers left over from summer, and to my right, the tree I carved our initials into. I trudge over to it, tracing my fingers over the jagged writing.

_H.H. & M.C._

If I was more comfortable with myself, I'd have drawn a heart around it. He stands behind me, admiring it just the same as he had over three decades ago.

* * *

_I lean up against the tree, smirking at Merlin as he sits down beside me._

_"Truth or dare?" He asks like the question is as serious as life or death. In front of us sit James and Percival, they're both engaged in a private conversation, but still involved in the game._

_"Dare," I grin. I never bother with truth questions, they're always romantic and it makes me feel a bit sick._

_"I dare you to kiss Percy." He turns to him. Percival isn't fond of dares like this, but right now he isn't exactly opposing. He's more just sitting there, a bit stand-offish, staring at me with oddly bright green eyes._

_It's a meaningless kiss. What does it matter?_

_James doesn't look excited about this, but I take it he also understands it's just a dare. Both he and Merlin know Percival isn't my type, and we all know I'm not his._

_We meet in the middle, my hands resting in the grass. Percival tilts his head, allowing me to lean in without much effort. As our lips connect, my hand shoots up and rests on his face. If anything it feels unnatural. I've come to find a rhythm and certain way that Merlin and I kiss that seems different from how Percy and James must do it. We both awkwardly fix our position, I tilt my head gently with him._

_While I can't see anything, I hear James making remarks to Merlin while he laughs._

_"You kiss like you're in secondary school!" James roars with laughter, ultimately that is when I break apart from Percy and settle back against the tree._

_"It was so awkward." Merlin leans in closer than he needs to, the tip of his nose bumping against my cheekbone._

_"Fine, truth or dare, Merlin?" I cross my arms over my chest._

_While Merlin thinks of what to answer, I take a glance at Percy. He's grinning at one corner of his mouth, his gaze is directed at James. His appearance is a bit Gothic in nature. Oddly bright green-blue eyes, pale skin and dark eyebrows and hair. All black clothing, always quite reserved and silent, quite the opposite of James. He's cool personified, while James is warm personified. Hazel eyes, reddish hair, slightly tan, loud and friendly and invasive of any and all personal space. It's quite miraculous that they work so well together._

_"Dare," Merlin smirks at me._

_I turn my attention back to him. I tilt my head, giving the same kind of smirk back. "_ _I dare you to kiss James. To show us how it's supposed to be done."_

_James glances between us, that grin still on his face._

_"Maybe you should have dared him to kiss_ you _, Harry."_

_I face James, glowering for a moment._

_Merlin pulls me in by my shirt sleeves._

_"What a rebel," I laugh gently, resting my hands on his shoulders._

_We kiss quite tenderly, to the point where James isn't immediately putting us down. I feel awkward kissing in front of them, especially in the way that we are. This is something I'd only do in private with Merlin, kissing him like this, grabbing at his shirt and whispering in his ear that I want to fuck him, but currently it's just uncomfortable and I don't like it._

_"_ Alright _, you can stop." I heard James, but pulled Merlin in a bit closer and kissed him much more roughly._

_Percy laughs, and I refrain from moving my hand down to his prick. I pull myself away, resting my hand over my mouth and smiling underneath it._

_"You're cute together, are you dating?" James has lightened up now. Merlin rests his arm over me, leaning back against the tree beside the one I'm leaning on._

_I pull myself away when James asks that. It upsets him visibly, his arm hangs mid-air before he settles it down at his side._

_"No. Just sex." I pull my legs up, wrapping my arms around my knees._

_"I'd say we're close," Merlin says quietly._

_"_ Are _we close?" I'm worried and accusatory, he glares at me._

_James and Percival agree to leave us alone, filing out of the clearing slower than I can tell they'd like to._

_"What do you mean?" He sounds upset. "We're certainly close! We kiss, we have sex, we spend almost all our time together! Is that just nothing?"_

_"But it doesn't have any meaning. We have sex because we like having sex, we kiss because we like to do that, we spend all our time together because we're friends! It doesn't mean we're in some queer fucking relationship." My voice is tense, it turns feeble and weak towards the end of my rant. "Why do you want to be queer with me?"_

_Merlin furrows his brows, looking utterly confused._

_"What the fuck do you mean? It's not that I want to be queer with you, I want to be with you because I happen to like you, Harry, quite a lot." He looks irritated. "Why are you with me, then?"_

_"I'm not 'with you.' If anything I just like having sex with you." I don't look at him when I say that, but he obviously takes offense to my statement._

_He stands up, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. He pins me against the tree, his eyes attempt to burn through my shell._

_"You're_ such _an arsehole, Harry. Why have sex with me when you could fuck yourself senseless with a cucumber? It wouldn't be 'faggy' then." His face is close to mine, my eyes are locked on his. I exhale a bit shakily._

_"A cucumber wouldn't yell at me because I'm not a fucking fag like you are." My voice wobbles, it sounds both harsh and weak. "It wouldn't be clingy and emotional and whiny."_

_His eyebrows settle, he steps back, letting me go. Merlin looks broken. His eyes have a depth that I can't fully comprehend, his hands that for a moment were balled into fists now laid flat at his thighs. He stares at me, his eyes are beginning to shimmer, brimming with tears._

_I don't come close to comfort him, he doesn't need comforting. He runs away, saying nothing more and simply aiming to get as far away from me as possible._

_I follow him, stopping once we've both come out of the cluster of trees._

_"Go on! Fucking run away!" My voice breaks as I scream after him, and for a moment I feel empty. I stand there, the taste of his lips still present on mine, my hands tightly clasped into fists, breathing roughly and looking like I'd readily murder someone._

_For a moment I feel remorse. That moment stretches into the rest of the day, feeling empty while simultaneously feeling like shit._

_I lie in bed, telling myself I shouldn't call him. I tell myself he'll call me, but I know for certain that he won't._

_For an hour I sit at the phone, dialing his number over and over, hanging up before the second ring. I'm bothering him, I'm certainly making it worse. I don't like him in that way, I know there's no way I could, I'm not a faggot, but Merlin didn't like what I said. He doesn't deserve to feel like shit because of me, I owe him._

_It makes me wonder what I am at all. I'm certain I'm not queer, not every guy I see gets me hard and makes me bothered. If anything, just Merlin does that. There are a few other guys I'd consider fucking, mainly just James and Percy if they felt up to a foursome, but every fantasy I have always involves Merlin. In a way, I don't mind it. But I know I should hate what I feel towards him._

_My fingers shake as I dial out the number again. If I was brave enough I'd try to sneak some of Dad's beer and calm my nerves, but I've already locked myself in the closet with the phone. I exhale on the second ring, trying to force myself to stay on the line._

_"Please stop calling!" His mum's voice is shrill in my ears, like nails on a chalkboard, but before she can slam the receiver back down, I nearly yell._

_"It's Harry," I silence myself after that, hoping my parents don't come to see what I'm doing. I hope they're not close right now._

_"So you've been calling us all day? What do you want? Merlin came home crying and he doesn't want to talk to you." It's not right to be the cause of someone's suffering, even if they did something that made you uncomfortable. What I did was worse._

_I sigh, rubbing my eyes as I feel them start to burn._

_"Please put Merlin on. I need to apologise." I clear my throat to avoid sounding like I'm weak and upset._

_She calls for Merlin, holding her hand over the receiver._

_"_ Never _make my son cry again, alright? I'd be glad if he didn't forgive you for whatever it is you did." She hands the phone over to Merlin, and I feel like I'm going light-headed as I try to come up with what I'm going to say to him._

_He waits until everyone's left to start talking._

_"Who is this?" His voice is solemn, it doesn't sound right at all._

_"I'm so sorry, Merlin." I begin to hear my voice turn whimpery, and sniffle gently, away from the receiver._

_"You're acting weird. First you like me enough to kiss me and nearly grope me, then you hate me, scream at me, call me a fag, and now you're in tears and apologising? What's wrong with you?" He doesn't sound demeaning, he just sounds fed up._

_I cover my mouth, sniffling and holding back tears. I doubt I'll ever get good at things like this._

_"I wanted to apologise for hurting you like I did. I care about you so much and I don't want to lose you." My shoulders shake._

_Merlin is quiet on the other end, I'm certain I've lost him._

_"You said back there that you liked me?" My voice is weak, I sound lost, even._

_"Before you yelled at me I liked you. To the point where I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out." He must have locked himself somewhere else, too._

_"You liked me that much?" I wipe a few stray tears from my cheeks. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, Merlin."_

_"Harry. . .are you crying?" He sounds almost shocked._

_I sniffle, trying in vain to make it seem like I'm not on the brink of sobbing over how I feel about my friend. It's all too confusing and I don't understand how I feel. There's too many conflicting ideas in my head. It feels ridiculous to be reacting like this._

_"I don't know how I feel. I want to say I like you back, but I can't. None of this makes sense and I'm scared and I don't know what to feel."_

_He doesn't say anything for a while._

_"Can I come over? I don't feel like I can help you properly over the phone."_

_"Please don't come over. I don't deserve any help." I sound so pathetic, confused to the point of crying._

_"Stop it. You're crying. I'm coming over."_

_"You don't need to." I hold the receiver close to my face, sniffling and now I've given up on wiping away tears._

_"Harry. Please just wait for me."_

_I nod. "Okay."_

_He pauses._

_"G-goodbye." He sounds uncertain as he hangs up._

_"Goodbye."_

_I sit on the last step, slumped over and trying to stop my pathetic crying. I feel anxious as I wait, my heart races in my chest. I haven't even fully comprehended if I feel anything other than friendliness towards Merlin, and now I immediately have to decide if I hate myself for feeling the way I do or if I'm trying to force myself to feel a way that I don't._

_When he knocks on the door, I immediately get up and open it, finding him looking just as much a wreck as I do. I grab him close, my tears start flowing again when I hold him. Merlin grabs me tightly, he rubs my back and tries to direct me upstairs._

_He closes the door for me and guides me up to my room. While I try to calm myself down he locks the door, turning to me and asking if I'm okay._

_"I don't know. I don't know if I want to be with you or if I want you out of my life or if I want none of this to have ever happened." I take his hand, I can barely see him, my vision blurs with tears._

_Merlin holds me close, whispering gently and in a reassuring tone._

_"Don't cry, you don't think straight when you're crying." He pets my back, I smile feebly as I lean in closer to him._

_"Do you like me?" I look up at him, I'm certain my messy eye makeup is streaming down my face and making me look stupid and tragic. He pulls his sleeve up and wipes away my tears._

_"I think I do. Do you like me?" He sounds hopeful, he sounds like a little kid and I find it funny._

_I lean into him and kiss him softly, holding him around his shoulders and smiling against his lips once we've broken the kiss. For a little while we keep doing it, his hands move from my face down to my waist. This is the first time I can remember that kissing him didn't turn into something dirty. Surprisingly, I don't hate it in the slightest._

_We finish kissing, ending with small pecks and a few held longer than they should have been. Merlin smiles at me._

_He lies down, and I follow, we curl up into awkward positions until we find one that works perfectly. My forehead rests against the base of his neck, his chin sits on top of my head. Merlin's arms wrap around me, holding me close in a way that normally I'd hate._

_"We're queer, aren't we?" I ask, I try not to let myself sound disappointed._

_"At least for each other." It sounds reassuring, it doesn't sound completely disheartening and terrible when he says it. I kiss him again, and for a moment I can believe I'm queer._

_At the very least, I like Merlin in that way, and he likes me in just the same way._

* * *

We rest against the trees, just the same as we had when we were teens. His arm rests around me, and I don't shrug it off or try to force him to back off of me. I rest my head on his shoulder, relaxing.

"Are you sure you wouldn't be comfortable in a relationship? The last time you were confused you literally fell into my arms." He must be omniscient. Or simply have the greatest memory of anyone I know, and know exactly when I've remembered just the same thing.

"I'd give it a few more days before I'm ready to say for sure." I take a risk, and rest my hand on his thigh.

Merlin seems to love it. He grins subtly and moves in closer to me. I smile coyly in response.

"Do you want to cuddle tonight?" He sounds like a proper fool in love, it feels so dismaying that I can't reciprocate his feelings right now.

"Of course," I breathe. I enjoy it, I happily would curl up with him and fall asleep like that if it made him happy.

* * *

That night we both fall into bed, grabbing at each other and laughing awkwardly while we adjust ourselves. Merlin takes to pulling me dangerously close, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on the crown of my head when I'm too nervous to look at him. He feels welcoming, at this point in time I'd gladly say he makes me feel at home. He's got a gift of making me feel comfortable in a way I don't think I could without him.

Our legs are woven together once again. He's already out like a light by the time I'm only half-asleep, and I turn over on my side, hoping that will help. I adjust myself, I press my back against his midsection and hold his hand that now rests over my stomach.

I've come to appreciate him so much. I turn back over, admiring his resting face. I smile, purely in the way that you do when you see someone you adore more than anything else in the world. Finding that in a person who can feel the same way towards you and admire you back is incredibly lucky, finding something like that at all is luck in it of itself. But for that person to be Merlin, of all people, I have to feel quite blessed.

I'm becoming incredibly ridiculous. I lean up, kissing his forehead briefly. I continue to stare for a few moments, before I turn back onto my side. My stomach ceases to curl into knots, and I feel like I can rest now. He nuzzles his face into the back of my neck.

He's becoming very good at faking sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just did the maths, and according to a date calculator, and with how often I updated my story this month, it may take me until May to finish it. I'm honestly surprised it only took me over a month to get to 27,000+ words.

I've been lying in bed for an hour, staring at his face. Merlin has smiled about three times within that hour, pulled me close and nuzzled me all while I grin too frequently and ask him when he's going to fix that old woman's laptop.

"Once we're out of bed I'm right on it, I promise. You're starting to sound like her," he laughs gently, kissing my temple and curling up closer to me.

"A few more minutes," I murmur, now finding that I enjoy this. I never really did enjoy cuddling much at all, I thought it was uncomfortable and I was unable to get away. I'm not sure how that's only changed so quickly, but I am starting to love every moment that we spend embracing each other.

Merlin's hand rests on my back, he rubs circles into my shoulder and his face contorts into a small grin when he realises I like it.

I dislike moments of silence, it leaves me stuck in my own mind with nothing to distract from my thoughts. It is a bit dreadful when he doesn't begin talking again. I feel like I have to start another conversation about anything just to make myself feel comfortable. To make myself less tense, I lean in close, my head resting on the pillow beside his neck. I listen to the monotonous beating of his heart, smiling against his exposed shoulder.

His hand trails up from my shoulder to my hair, he gently tangles his fingers through it.

He makes a noise at the back of his throat, a low sigh. I glance up to him. His dark eyes are wholly focused on me, my eyelids feel heavy. Finally, his hand moves from my hair to my cheek. His cool fingertips rest on my cheekbone, his touch is comforting. I level our gazes, scooting up in the bed and relaxing in a position where my arms drape over his side and the back of his neck.

There is no gap between us. The tips of our noses bump against each other, he lays his hand on my face and his thumb caresses the skin beside my upper lip.

Merlin gives his head a subtle tilt, my eyes close as I lean in. His hand cups my face now.

For a few moments, we share a relatively insignificant kiss. There are no sparks. My stomach isn't curling up in knots or exploding into butterflies. There are no skipped heartbeats, no exhales of breath we didn't realise we'd been holding. It is perfectly ordinary in most every way. It mirrors so many other kisses we'd shared together. The gesture calls back every single memory of a kiss like the one we're holding.

Our first kiss we shared while we shared his bed. We'd both been completely silent, watching each other, then leaned in and did it. Ones we shared when we were sad and found reassurance in each other, it makes me remember the kiss we shared after we'd first experimented with sex. I wasn't yet self-hating, I pulled him close and tried to extend it for eons, roughly pressing ourselves together and grabbing at limbs while we made each other hard again. Even quick kisses we shared during lunch, secluding ourselves from everyone else in school and looking out for people in between quick pecks on the lips.

My lips drift from his, but he pulls me into another kiss that is just as simple. They were never so earth-shatteringly special and intense as novels love to say they are. I feel that the person I am sharing it with is more significant than the act itself.

Once we've retracted from each other we continue with our day. The feeling of warmth and closeness doesn't evaporate like an oxygen-starved flame. I keep my distance but I feel a draw towards him that I hadn't had previously. It does feel ridiculous that now I have given up the front that I don't care for him in a way deeper than casual fondness. He can tell what I feel, it was useless to try to bottle up my feelings towards him.

* * *

I watch as Merlin gives the repaired laptop back to the old woman. She seems hesitant to thank him, asking him if it really does work or if he deserves the £63 for fixing it.

"My friend tested it with me, the screen works perfectly fine. I could give it a run right now if you'd like." He faces me, his eyes entail his weariness of her.

He opens it, logs on with her easy-to-decode password, and everything is running fluidly. Her face is harsher than necessary. I stand at his left, behind her, and she scoots back in her seat when he leans over to type. He pulls up her most-frequented website, some baking catalog, and asks her if she can tell how much nicer the screen resolution is. His knuckle brushes against my fingers as he talks.

"I don't know what a resolution is, but I guess it works. I'll be back with the money." She closes the laptop and takes it under her shoulder to her car. We stand at the doorway, Merlin still fiddling his hand with mine. However, instead of running like Merlin thought she would, she does return with her purse in hand.

For a moment she doesn't notice him lacing our fingers together, she then promptly steps back. Merlin looks confused, and I'm the one to let go.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you're nancies," she scoffs, pulling the pounds out of her purse and setting them into his clean hand.

"All I did was replace your screen! It's not like we looked up porn on your laptop and filmed ourselves fucking!" His hands clench into loose fists. The woman escapes to her car, driving off as Merlin scowls at her.

I watch him come back, he closes the door behind himself. He shakes his head, running his hands down the back of it to his neck. When he unclasps them, he looks to me.

"I'll call her and apologise later tonight." He sighs, now walking off to the kitchen to make himself a mug of tea.

I follow after him, standing beside him and placing my hand on his shoulder.

Merlin takes solace in the touch, he gives a sort of micro-smile and pulls out another mug.

"She was a bitch." I flip through his tea selection while he snakes his hand to my back. I remove my hand, and he pulls me in, his hand clasping at my side. I feel trapped. "You went off, but I think you're more in the right than she was."

Merlin pours the steaming water into our mugs. We rest on the sofa a while, muting the TV when he answers calls, eventually we're slumped against each other and it's midday.

Some shitty detective drama is playing, Merlin and I have taken to mocking it.

"Clive, the victim had traces of nitrocellulose and acrylic in her wounds. This has to mean that the murders are committed by more than one person!" The female detective seems surprised when she makes this obvious connection. "The previous victim was strangled by a man's belt, thus making the pattern random enough for the murders to seem unrelated. But the murder before the belt strangulation was also done by a woman, we could tell by the amount of care put into the disposal of the body. The murderer before her would chuck the victims out and kill them brutally."

"How is she jumping to the conclusion that there _are_ two murderers? It could be a woman that's incredibly smart in her pattern that she disposes of the victims differently and kills them differently." Merlin's hand idly rests over my shoulder.

"Exactly. Or the murderer isn't a woman, and the murderer planted the nitrocellulose and acrylic there to lead them off." I watch as the two detectives continue to bicker. Their dialogue is written poorly, it's obvious there's supposed to be some kind of blossoming romance between them but it just comes off as rushed and uncomfortable.

The camera focuses on the male detective, and Merlin gives a small smirk at me.

"He's attractive," his fingers brush against my shoulder. "Don't you think?"

I take a good look at him, and don't find him all that great-looking. I'd call Merlin blind for finding him attractive, but I'm no judge on taste.

"I'll bet he'll look like a pug when he's seventy." I give a grin like I'm going to laugh.

Merlin turns to me, as if confirming something to himself.

"You don't need to insult him, I think you're handsomer either way." He returns his eyes to the screen, and for another half-hour we mock the shitty detective show until he gets a longer call that requires him to leave the room.

* * *

We decided to get take-out out of pure laziness. Merlin had actually stashed take-out menus in one of his drawers, some of them were so old that the restaurants had long since closed down and the phone numbers were out of service. We agreed that curry and rice sounded good, and decided a walk would do us good, as well.

"Tell me about the man you dated," I almost blurt out as my mind drifts to the subject. I'm curious why he didn't continue to date that man. I'm also a bit curious what he was like. I find it odd that Merlin, someone who in my mind comes off as dedicated and loyal, would actually want to be in another relationship. He seems like the type that doesn't quickly get over a relationship once it's over. He's been leading me to believe he was always thinking about me when I wasn't here, so I can't exactly blame myself for thinking the way I do.

He looks almost uncomfortable. He pushes both his hands into his pockets and glances to me.

"I'm sorry, never mind that." I apologise quickly.

"No, it's fine. It's not like he abused me. Quite the opposite. He was kind, gentle, talked about his feelings. Wore a lot of leather, too." He laughs gently. "He acted really effeminate but dressed like a bear, I thought it was funny. But I was too young for him."

"How old was he?"

"He was about forty." Merlin looks solemn, his voice has even taken on a distant quality.

I furrow my brow. My hand hesitantly dips into his pocket, and I clutch onto his hand.

"Did you sleep with him?" His face brightens up when he feels my hand.

"Of course I did, but we used a condom. Don't think I like being the bottom, honestly." His fingers lace with mine, I look forward at the road as to not repeat yesterday.

"Mind telling me a bit more?" My curiosity is completely morbid, and while I believe for a moment he's just going to tell me more about the man he instead gives in-depth, disgusting detail.

"Well, he didn't realise he fucked hard, but my face was buried in a pillow, I barely knew what was going on. Eventually we worked it out, but those first few times were horrible. I bled because his condom wasn't lubed, one time it broke and I was convinced I had AIDS until he got tested and turned out to be negative. He asked if I was into water sports, we ended it because I wasn't kinky and I was too young."

I rub my thumb against his, tightening my grasp.

"Well, _are_ you into water sports?" I smirk, at first Merlin doesn't think it's funny but he does eventually grin.

"You owe me details about your sex life now," he sounds much more elated now.

I drift a bit closer to him, it looks awkward, my hand in his pocket when we're far enough away that it looks like I'm doing something publicly indecent.

"There's not much to tell." My voice sounds a bit tense. He's certainly going to question why I haven't even made out with anyone since we broke up. And I have no good alibi as to why I've got no sex life beyond him.

"What do you mean? Don't tell me you're completely celibate," he still seems upbeat, I wouldn't want to spoil his mood with something like that. He'd take it to mean that I have something wrong with me.

"I mean, I kind of was. So invested in the shop and mentoring my apprentice Gary to the point where I could retire early. I went to gay bars on occasion but no one ever asked me back to their flat." My grasp goes a bit weak. "I just wanked when I was stressed and did nothing else. You're the only person I've been close with."

We stop in front of the take-out place, and Merlin finally faces me. It's not a dramatic heel-turn, more or less it's a natural stop.

"You mean I'm the only person you've ever been romantic with? Had sex with?" We enter the restaurant, we make a B-line to the take-out counter and order.

I sit down on the bench, a couple is sat a few feet down talking among themselves. It feels a bit shameful to admit you've only had one sexual partner, to admit you haven't even fucked since you were a teenager. That the person you're currently talking to is the last person you were close with.

He orders our food, and comes back to settle down beside me.

"I feel so behind on all of this. At least you've had a boyfriend and a few fuck buddies over the years, I feel like I'm still basically a virgin."

"Why is that a bad thing? If anything it's kind of romantic." Merlin is trying his best to reassure me, I know he is, but it is also wholeheartedly confusing.

"Imagine you were in my shoes. You've spent all your adult life as a tailor, you see nearly-naked men on a daily, and you're basically still a teenager when it comes to your sexuality. You get flustered over a co-worker who's nearly thirty years younger than you, who has a boyfriend he loves, and you go to gay bars alone to get drunk alone and go home alone." My voice is already quiet, and now it's beginning to waver.

"The only relationship you've ever had was with a boy who barely had any experience in romance but somehow was more experienced and mature than you, who you broke up with because you thought it was for the best. You tried to sleep with a random woman a co-worker set you up with but the moment you saw her naked you decided you could never see yourself with a woman in any capacity and ran back home to your rented porn."

I wait for Merlin to butt in. I'd rather he stop me right now than continue to listen to me complain about how boring my love life has been.

"You've run out of hope with dating, you never want to risk ruining a friendship because if they happen to be straight you've disgusted them and if they're gay they already have a partner or think you're too old. Eventually you meet back up with the only person you were ever with and you're certain they're too good for you, and that your feelings are irrational given how long it's been since you were with him and how you've only known the current version of him for a few days and you're trying to convince yourself your feelings aren't there. You're confused if what you're feeling is platonic or romantic or just sexual, but all you know for sure is that you're still too pathetic to be in a relationship at fifty-three-years-old."

Merlin sits back, he looks like he's hit information overload.

"Let's continue at home, okay?" His voice is emotionless, I can tell he's forcing it.

I nod in response, I wonder if I did it. If I distanced us entirely, if he's going to yell at me when we're back home, if I'm getting kicked out.

We get our food ten minutes later, and we're out the door. For the duration of our walk we don't speak to each other, we walk with our eyes forward, our hands kept to themselves, no smiles or laughs to be heard or seen.

I feel his eyes on me as we draw closer to the house. He unlocks the door, and after we've discarded our coats on the rack, we both assemble in the kitchen. Merlin takes out our Styrofoam containers, along with two cups of curry, along with plates and silverware. I pour half of my rice out onto a portion of the plate, along with half of the container of curry.

I hadn't noticed Merlin watching me prepare my food. I feel like readying myself for the blow, I know I can argue back fiercely if he yells at me, but I don't feel like doing that now. For the time being I just want to eat, shower, and go to bed.

His eyes aren't mad. They look soft and inviting. His lips look like they are about to curl into a smile.

"Even if you're not sure how you feel, it's still sweet." Merlin leans into me, holding my arm loosely.

I'm not sure if he's waiting for me, but now I can't move away from him. I'm not sure if I want to move, either.

"You're a bit poor at confessing your feelings about anything, you're right. Doesn't mean you can't learn how to, though." His thumb rubs against my bicep. I feel like it's a thing for him, that he has to move a part of his body or else he becomes irritable.

"But I'm just terrible at knowing how I feel to begin with. You're the only person I've had a romantic relationship with, and that was barely a romantic relationship to begin with. I don't know how I feel, Merlin. I care for you, I'm certain I care for you very deeply." I sigh, saying all of that out loud is more than I wish I had done. I already regret letting the words leave my mouth. If he still did feel something for me it's likely gone. Like I've blocked him away from me.

Just as I'm about to turn away, Merlin pulls me back and kisses me. His hand grasps onto my arm, his free one is placed on my cheek. It slides to the back of my head, pulling me in closer as we kiss. It's rougher, there's more passion behind it. We open our mouths, my hands wrap around his waist and I deepen it.

For the time we're intertwined we actually get intense. I feel tempted to neglect our food and take him to bed to continue, I'm so tempted to grab him close and make him moan.

But once we've pulled apart from each other, I find myself satisfied just from the kiss. It's still too soon to have sex, even though the thought is now coursing in the back of my mind, I'm practically begging myself to bring him back to his bedroom and fuck until my throat is raw. It'd be the first time we were allowed to be loud during sex.

For the time being, we eat our curry and rice while chatting about nothing in particular, like we hadn't just been grasping at each other desperately. Merlin mixes his curry and rice together, I think it makes him look like a small child.

"Then the curry soaks into the rice, it tastes great." He brags about his technique.

"How can you tell? Rice doesn't have much flavour at all, if anything you're just making the rice soggier before you get to the last of it." I display my rather basic technique of filling half the spoon with curry, picking up a small hunk of meat along with it, and then picking up a dab of rice to finish off. "But, you're faster. Touché."

This makes him laugh. He picks up some of his curry-soaked rice on his spoon, then gestures it out subtly to me.

"Fine, if you're the master, then tell me if my tactic is bad."

I take his spoon and take the bite. He got spicier curry, to the point that I find it shocking. I hand him back his spoon and take a long swig of water in the most smooth way possible.

"It doesn't taste any different." I say, laughing a little at my foolishness. I set down the glass of water, and Merlin takes my hand from across the table.

"I'm glad you're having fun," his voice is sincere and soothing.

I look back down to my plate, my eyes flicking between my food and his hand holding onto mine.

I become ashamed quite quickly when it hits me that I'm only comfortable being like this in private.

* * *

Merlin's eyes are piercing. In the faint light of his bedside lamp I can just faintly make out the thousands of subtle hues in his eyes. I've seen various shades of brown, gold, and green all balanced perfectly within his iris. His eyes are utterly gorgeous, his make me feel disappointed in my own. Large, dark doe-eyes framed by dark lashes. I feel quite special, being the sole target of his gaze.

I am deliriously tired, I'd showered while Merlin read, talking to him over the sound of the faucet and listening to him read aloud for me.

A part of me feels dissatisfied that I don't give him sweet compliments. I'd tell him that I find his eyes beautiful, that I adore his presence, that I'd die happily if I was lying in bed with him and listening to the beat of his heart. But I just can't bring myself to. I feel discomfort admitting something like that. It makes me feel vulnerable. Merlin has no fear of vulnerability, it's something I admire in him. Maybe he should teach me how to confess my feelings.

"When we were younger I wanted to marry you." He yawns. "I called up a registered preacher working out of his garage, he told me he'd gladly marry us. I was going to call you that night and tell you all about it, but by the time you answered my mum yelled me off the line. I wonder if he's still around."

I have my arms wrapped around him, I'm trying to bring myself to do something. I smile, but I'd rather do something breathtakingly romantic like our kiss in the kitchen.

"I wanted you to move to London with me. I thought you could get a job at MI6, because I didn't know what you wanted to do with your life." Merlin smiles at that. "I was convinced gay marriage would never be legal, but we'd live like a married couple. Share a flat and a bed, go out on anniversary dinners, roll into bed after long days at work and curl up together and be completely satisfied with life."

He pulls me closer, I take the opportunity and kiss him softly.

"That would have been lovely." He nuzzles me, it makes me feel secure. I almost giggle, if that's the right word, when he does nuzzle me, and it scares him for a moment. "Are you alright?"

I nod, pulling him closer.

"This is the most satisfied I've been with life in years." I whisper, I'm starting to fade out.

I look up to find Merlin grinning, close-lipped. He leans into me, kissing me again. I cup his cheek when we kiss now, we break apart a few moments before starting again. We, right now, are being pretty chaste for two adults who harbour feelings for each other sharing a bed. I tuck myself in closer to him, smiling when I feel his lips on my forehead.

"Goodnight, love."

I find it strange. Another thing I'm uncertain about.

"Goodnight," I reply in a gentle voice. We remain embracing and facing each other.

In my dreams, I consider the concept of marrying Merlin. Halfway through my dream I officially consider it a nightmare. I find it terrifying for no reason I can discern. Overall it's a quite normal dream, there's nothing obviously wrong with it. But the concept startles me awake in the middle of the night, finding Merlin lying right beside me, resting on his side and tucked deeply under the covers.

I embrace him from behind, making him my little spoon for the time being. I reach forward and kiss him on his temple, I continue to embrace him up until I fall asleep. It's the first time I'm certain I was romantic behind his back. Quite literally, in this case.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took twenty days to finish this chapter. I don't know why.

I've been pondering the concept of soulmates.

It's entirely fate that you find someone who cares for you, and who you feel mutually about. If you two are broken apart, you somehow always find your way back to each other. Your destiny is to be together, be it a friend or a lover.

I think the idea is too optimistic for me. Everything happens by chance in my mind, sometimes you get lucky and most times you don't. It's not irrational to think Merlin would have just never happened to move during the time I was off in London. It's a bit chance that he happened to immediately accept me back into his life, if anything very lucky. But I can't come up with many answers as to why he still cares for me.

It should have worn away with time and neglect, as most all romances do. I can only faintly theorise why he's still interested. I don't want to assume that he has been waiting for me, that's too narcissistic for me to want to believe. It also doesn't seem right. He had flings between then and now, maybe it's just a faint flame he's cherished. He seems to rarely speak negatively of being with me, even though I can mostly only remember the rough patches in our relationship. Merlin's idealistic when it comes to love, he always has been. But he's more emotionally mature in that area, I have to consider that this could be what people normally do. Harbour small crushes on the first person they were with until their death. They find other loves after it, they love the person or people they date afterwards, but they still have a subdued fondness towards their college sweetheart.

We haven't had the best go, but something in me still has a shred of hope in the idea of soulmates. I'd believe it if another coincidence drove us apart and brought us back together, this is just purely good luck that we're back together in any capacity.

I caught myself gazing at him earlier in the kitchen, watching the circular movements of his shoulder blades while he stretched his arms. I can still find myself flustered to a degree just watching him do mundane tasks. Merlin hadn't been paying attention, he was on the phone with his mum. I was vaguely tuning in to the call, hearing only a few brief exchanges and only given the chance to assume what his mother said.

"I can get married and adopt a child, you have no reason to be upset with me anymore." He sounded desperate as he spoke to her. He slouched over the counter, he either didn't realise I was listening or didn't care. "Why is it that Dad can accept me but you can't?"

There was silence, tense and discomforting. Merlin straightened himself up and sighed, moving over to the kitchen table to sit across from me. I didn't bother to say anything, the most I did was give sympathetic glances and watch while he conversed with her.

I could faintly hear her then, going on about her wanting him to have a proper family.

"Having a wife and your own child would make you happier, I'm sure it would." The strange thing was that she didn't sound witchy. Her voice displayed the same softness as Merlin's, they spoke to each other tenderly. That was something I hadn't remembered, that when I hadn't gotten in the way, Merlin had a close bond with his mother.

"I'd be happy enough if I found my soulmate, but I'm certain they won't be a woman, Mum." He tapped his fingernail onto the table, watching it while he spoke.

That sparked my pondering about soulmates, knowing Merlin believed in them and had a quite optimistic dream of finding his soulmate and living the rest of his life with his true love.

"How can you be sure? You've never dated a woman," his mother sounded ultimately concerned, as a parent should be. But when your son is fifty and his sexual orientation has never come into question, it's safe to say he's sure.

"I don't want to. I'm not attracted to them." His downtrodden eyes met mine for a brief moment. In his gaze there was a desolate look that felt entirely unnatural and felt empty.

Merlin exhaled slowly and audibly, not very similar to a sigh like the one before.

"I'm sure if you found the right woman you'd change your mind about this queer thing." His mother had tried the best to understand him and make him feel loved while disliking his sexuality. She blamed it on me for a while, but quickly decided that it hadn't been all my fault once we broke up and he was still gay.

His lips settled into a firm, straight line. His finger stopped tapping,.

"Why don't you understand yet? Mum, I don't like women, I can't see myself having any kind of relationship with one. But I feel all those ways towards men, I'll be much happier if I end up married to a man. If I wanted I could adopt a child, there's nothing stopping me from that." His voice burst in a subtle way when he brought up marriage.

"I don't understand how you could say you'd rather get married to a man. What if you get HIV?" Her voice went thin and a sniffle exuded from the phone.

I could faintly see Merlin's eyes turn watery hearing his mum cry. He removed his glasses momentarily, then asked her to calm down.

"I promise I'll never get it. You have no reason to worry about that." He can control his voice when he is restraining himself from crying. There was a slight break when he began speaking, but it fizzled out quickly.

"Are you sure?" Her voice began to shake, it began to sound dramatic and penetrating once again.

"Yes, I am. Please go and take a rest, Mum." They said their 'I love you's' and 'goodbyes,' hanging up quietly.

Merlin stood up from the kitchen table and stood over it for a few moments like he'd shut down in the process. He tucked his phone away, taking a few moments before returning to work.

"I told her you came back. She still doesn't like you even after I've confirmed you're not leaning again." He tells me later on, still not entirely recovered from the phone call. "She always goes on about my relationships."

It doesn't feel right to touch him. He needs comfort, but he's rejecting my advances for cuddling and napping on the couch together. Merlin sits to himself, continuing to talk in a morose voice.

"I'm sorry you have to see this," he apologises.

I inch in closer, I hope that he'll let me come near him. It's rare that I comfort anyone, but he does need it.

"You want to get married?" I hope that maybe this topic would eventually cheer him up. I'm trying my best to eventually derail our conversation from his mother, to eventually cheer him up.

"Yes, eventually I would like to." He's backed into the arm of the sofa, I keep a decently sized gap between us for his sake.

I personally had never imagined myself getting married. It mostly came from the fact I hadn't tried to pursue a relationship since I was a teen. But there wasn't any draw towards having a closer relationship like that. At least, not in the general sense. My feelings are intensely muddled and I can't differentiate what those feelings are. I'm a romantically-emotionally stunted middle-aged man. Actually, I'd say past middle-age now.

"Have you ever felt you were certain about it? That you knew the person you wanted to marry, you knew how it would happen, and you'd already fantasised about married life?" I can't say I'd ever had any of those feelings about the subject.

Merlin doesn't let me closer, he looks like a terrified animal when I try to come nearer. So I remain at my current distance. He turns to me, his smile bittersweet.

"I never knew certainly how it would happen, but I spent a few weeks a long time ago fantasising about telling him and asking him to marry me." He turns away slowly, it takes a moment for us both to stop facing each other.

"I'm sorry that didn't happen," I keep my tone solemn and grave. We both look perfectly sober.

Merlin turns back, nodding to himself in a self-assuring way. I don't turn to look at him and my hands grasp at my knees, pulling at the fabric of my trousers.

"Don't apologise. You can't help how you feel." His voice is despairing. Merlin finally gets up from his seat, he picks up his phone and goes over to his computer, seeming to just be dialing a random number in. The infrequent beeps fill the room, and I worry that I've done something wrong. I know I likely hadn't, but I just don't feel right leaving him like this.

I try to tell myself to stay in the room with him, I try to insist that I should comfort him until he isn't gloomy. But I've already begun standing up, walking to the door to grab my coat. I take a look back at him, only finding him hunched over his computer, seeming to just be listening to dead air.

If there's anything I've learned in my life, it's that I've been a terrible friend for the majority of it. Since we've been friends, I've hurt him a fair amount of times, I've made him cry, made him yell and scream at me, but then he bears it incredibly. It makes me feel terrible that he still does have some kind of attachment that he can't shake off. I would tell him he shouldn't still feel that way. He can't help it, most likely, but he deserves better than me. Every single time we try to be friendly and maintain a normal friendship I go and screw the whole thing up.

Everything's going too fast for it to make sense to me, already we're acting like some kind of couple and I don't even know if this is what I feel for him. I'm a past middle-aged, silver-templed man acting like a young woman in her first real relationship. I'm too old for anything like this.

"Please call me if you need anything." I want to get another look at him. He doesn't see to be paying attention, but I can tell he just doesn't want to answer. I shut the door after watching him a little while longer. He needs space. I can't comfort him the way he needs to be comforted, the least I can do is leave him alone a while.

I walk around the particular stretch of neighborhood Merlin lives in for nearly an hour. The whole time I'm worried he's upset, that I made him feel worse by leaving him, and deciding that I had again done the wrong thing. My hand is resting on my phone in my pocket, I'm waiting in nauseating anticipation for him to call. I start feeling that I want to go back on my own accord and tell him I'm sorry. Seeing him so upset and doing nothing about it, great move Harry. What next? Making him cry and beg for you to not leave him? Be a proper abuser, at least.

In proper fashion I have to think too deeply about everything. I have to consider if I should just leave now. The people refurbishing my house left a message earlier, they told me my house was ready to go, they brought in all the packages I'd neglected, I was set to move back in.

But what will I do about Merlin? I know the moment I stop living with him I'll go back to ignoring him or we'll lose touch again, despite living in the same town. I don't want to have those awkward conversations at the shop when we run into each other, both fearing the conversation we're stringing ourselves into. We'll break apart after that, be upset it couldn't have gone better and end up more miserable than when we went in. But it's a bit self-centred to assume he'd be worse-off without me.

I always get stuck into the same loops of thinking. I never stop thinking, but it's always about the same earth-shatteringly important issues, like if my best friend of over decades still likes me and if we're going to end up married. There must be something wrong with my mind if this is all I care about. Don't I have hobbies?

As I make another full circle around the houses, I feel a buzz against my palm. Immediately I rip my phone from my pocket, it's quite dramatic, and I find Merlin's name brightly displayed on my screen. I answer the call and I stop in front of the house of his neighbor two doors down. My other hand settles in my pocket to deflect the cold.

"Harry, can you please come back? I'm fine now." He sounds tired, if anything. I exhale too deeply, it makes it sound like I'm dreading coming back to him.

"Alright. I'm sorry I wasn't there." I begin walking slowly up to his house, I take my time to make it seem like I hadn't been essentially pacing for an hour.

"You'll make up for it," he sounds sincere, he sounds happier through his sleepy voice. I smile and hang up as I'm nearing his house.

I make my way up the walkway, opening the door I hadn't locked, and find Merlin standing on the other side. I nearly jump back, it makes him laugh.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He steadies me by my shoulder as I redistribute air to my lungs.

His eyes are crinkled, I feel like I wasn't needed to make him feel better. It's probably for the better.

I close the door, he takes his hand off and continues to gaze at me. Maybe he wants me to make a move. I decide not to do anything, instead smile at him and basically act like he hadn't been staring at me and making me slightly uncomfortable.

"I'm glad you're feeling better."

Merlin nods. We look like two fools standing in the foyer staring at each other. The rest of our day went as normal, we sat together, ate together, got ready for bed together, and slept in the same bed together. Over the course of the day he'd shook the discomfort and unhappiness off of his shoulders, to the point where I had to ask if he was okay.

"Maybe. I always have highs like this after feeling low." He tried to ease my concern by rubbing a gentle circle into my shoulder.

I still felt worried this was something bigger than he was making it, but I later found out that just was how he reacted to getting over being upset. It leveled him out during the night. He started incredibly affectionate and cheery, worrying me greatly. I felt uncomfortable around him for a while with just how oddly his brain reacted to him feeling poorly. Then again, any coping mechanism would likely be foreign and strange to me.

* * *

I'm awake now, much too early, it's still dark and Merlin's completely out. For a while last night we were making out in his bed, he started trying to remove my shirt and I stopped him. Suddenly I was closed off to being intimate. I felt bad for rejecting him and while he was falling asleep I kissed him and pulled him close to me. Affection makes him happy, no matter how much I don't entirely like it I still feel some obligation to do it to make him feel better. But then there are times I love it and I feel like I can't keep my emotions in check.

I wasn't emotional when I was living alone, I acted numb when I was alone and put on the face of a contented man when I was at work or out in public. But bringing him into the picture has thrown me out of my normal line of thinking.

Even if it's not in the way he feels, I like being around him, I like spending time with him despite my avoiding him. Right now, enjoying his company while he's asleep, that's comforting to me. I like being able to enjoy being with him when I'm not feeling pressured to make a move or say something to him.

Merlin's back is turned to me, I'm resting one hand on my chest and the other behind my head. I turn to him, looking over what I can see of his back. It rises and falls gently as I find him turning a bit hazy. My eyes are feeling a bit heavy, apparently I'd only woke up to watch him for a bit before going back to sleep.

I turned my back, starting to fall asleep while I felt Merlin curl up to me and embrace me gently. Like this, it was nice. Wrapped up together and basking in each other's warmth until the sun rose.

For a while we're like this, not facing each other and pretending we're both asleep. I can tell he must be awake. He has to be.

I don't turn to look at him. Instead I place a hand on his side, petting down it a few times to see if he'd react. When he doesn't it relieves me, but I do almost wish he was awake.

He's causing me to feel like a fool. He'd better be proud of himself for making me act like this. I rest my hands beneath my cheek, looking towards the curtains. A streetlight is beaming in a faint glow. My eyelids feel heavy for a second, but then I proceed to wake myself up once again. I'm starting to believe I have anxiety. My mind's become absorbed with these thoughts and I've left space for nothing else.

I hear a grunt as he shifts beside me. My eyes drift over to him, I let myself rest onto my back as I look to him. Merlin's eyes are just faintly open, in the dark they look purely black. He makes a gentle, happy-sounding noise and he watches me. His arms are folded over his stomach and his chest rises and falls slowly and subtly. We're facing each other, our shoulders are set together and he doesn't look particularly mad about being woken up. Merlin turns onto his side and leans into me, kissing me softly and a bit off-target. His lips fall on the corner of my top lip and the space above my top lip.

Against my better judgment, which is to go back to sleep so I'll wake up in a better state of mind to fully decide if this is a good idea, I rest a hand on his shoulder and kiss him back, properly. Now is one of those times where I don't want to stop myself, if I was thinking more clearly I would have stopped by now.

Merlin adjusts himself, he hovers over me and starts trailing kisses down to my neck. I exhale softly and he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. This steadies my jaw, his lips rest against it gently. I tilt my head back as he does this, laughing gently.

"You weren't really asleep, were you?" I reach my hand down to his back, grabbing onto his shirt with little force.

His teeth press into my skin faintly and I let out a sharp breath in response.

"I tried, but your tossing and turning kept me awake. I'm a bit disappointed you didn't react," he presses a kiss into the spot he bit, I settle my grip on his shirt.

"One day I'll be able to tell." I feel one warm hand rest down on my rib, just beneath my undefined pec. He smiles against my skin and moves his hand lower. He's getting dangerously close to where he was earlier, but I don't have any urge to stop him.

"Does that mean you're not leaving again?" He looks up at me, I meet his gaze and smile back at him.

"I plan not to." I moan as he bites me.

My hand tightens on his shirt once again and I feel honestly excited that we're going to have sex. Apparently I've now decided 'to hell with boundaries,' and we've rekindled some aspect of our relationship quicker than two on-and-off teenagers. Three decades is a while to pine, I hadn't been pining for a majority of it, but even when we were teenagers we never got over a fight this quickly. I can remember the longest break we took from each other was three months; during that three months we'd run into each other, scowl at each other, even at one point I initiated a yelling match because some prick actually pushed him into me. Not my proudest moment.

I get very upset with myself remembering how much of a prick I could be to him. I'd call him a 'fag,' because I was such a stupid kid, very early into us getting close. That wore off fast, I accepted I was gay too and cared for him. I'm a bit envious of Merlin for never trying to hide from himself like that. He never would have used slurs at me, insulted me, been generally rude to me when he liked me the same way I liked him.

His hand, the one that was resting on my rib, now is slithering down to my pyjama bottoms. At the last second his hand curls up and pulls up the hem of my shirt. He pushes it up, relying on me to pull it off myself. I do, in the process I lean up and start to pull his off as well. I'm not sure how older people have sex, it's always portrayed as a joke in movies and TV and I have no clue how different it is with age.

So far it's similar. I get aroused easily, we laugh at each other and despite us both enjoying it it's awkward. We attempt the same actions that we used to do, but we didn't have enough energy to shuffle around much further. Merlin adjusted himself, reaching almost desperately to grab something from the bedside table. He's kneeling over me as he fishes through the drawer. I look him over, grinning just slightly while I admire him. He's not so different. I still find it endearing that he looks so excited in his own way, his anticipation was obvious even if it wasn't being expressed physically.

He settles back down, holding a thick, blue vial of lube. I lean up into him, his hand snaking to the back of my head and holding it while we kiss. While I sit up, Merlin's hand moves down my stomach. His fingers trace the waistband of my pyjama bottoms and he teases me with gentle brushes of his fingertips against my erect prick. I moan softly at the back of my throat, a noise he finds funny.

In a while we've stripped each other naked. While we kissed and teased each other with touches, we asked each other how we were going to do this.

"Missionary's a bit bland, don't you think?" I'm nearly sitting in his lap, but we agreed this wouldn't be the position.

"I don't know. It's safer, I wouldn't want to crush you," I grin as his hand searches through the sheets for the lube he set down.

"We're not _that_ old, Harry. I mean, you could handle being on your hands and knees a while." His tone is playful, I feel my cock twitch as I imagine him fucking me violently while he jerks me off.

Once he's found the lube, I take it from him. Merlin distributes his weight onto his hands as he sits back. He too is erect, he already looks prepared. I twist open the vial, pouring a generous amount of his lube onto my hand. I rub my fingers against my palm and find it incredibly slippery. It coats my skin thickly, drizzling down my wrist as I reach for his cock.

He's hot to the touch, his eyes slowly shut as I lubed him. This action is completely impersonal, it doesn't feel like a thing a couple would do in bed. I feel like we're distant for those few moments I'm jerking him off.

"Mm," he moans softly between closed teeth. I move my fingers across the length, then taking back on the same open fist.

I can see Merlin tense in his thighs, raising his legs and parting them further. He sighs as I speed up, a noise I basked in. As I lean in to kiss his jaw, he takes my arm, signalling me to stop. I at first am worried if he noticed me going in to kiss him when I didn't need to, but then the worry fades as he smiles.

He pushes me over onto my knees, resting on my arms. They settle underneath the pillow. I feel nervous as I wait for any penetration, then a bit self-conscious with my arse sticking up in the air. I rake a hand through my hair, I don't feel comfortable anymore. My eyes are locked on the wall, there are thumbtack holes dotted randomly all along it. Merlin turned on the light while we were kissing, now everything is clear, I'm level-headed and I'm trying to convince myself not to go through with this.

When I try to tell myself I shouldn't, I tell myself I should. I cup my face in my hands, exhaling slowly as I feel my eyes sting. Why can't I just stop thinking?

He notices me feeling poorly and he scoots over to look at me.

"Harry?" His brow furrows, and I turn to him. I cover my face again, I try to stop myself from crying.

Merlin wraps his arms around me, pulling me into an embrace as I calm myself down with awkward breathing and frequent blinking which only causes tears to slip onto my under eye. He eases me, he tells me how to breathe while I focus my blurry vision on him.

"Breathe in," he whispers, doing the same action with me. I place one of my hands on his chest, starting to breathe correctly.

He rubs a soft circle into my back and I hold him closer than I'd like to admit I did. I nestle my head into the crook of his neck, then Merlin kisses my temple every once in a while, I feel weird having him be so affectionate and kind to me when this was all my fault.

"Are you tired?" He asks in his calm voice. I feel guilt now. I don't know why I was panicking about having sex with him, not when we had sex before, not when he was the only person I'd had sex with and, by that logic, the only person I would trust when having sex.

"No, we can keep going." I face him. He looks confused at my insistence.

Merlin pushes some hair away from my face, looking me over.

"Are you sure? We could just go back to sleep." His cool fingers felt good against my cheek.

"I want to. I forced us to stop already, let's just fuck already." I sound so desperate, it's pathetic.

Merlin thinks for a moment, before he pins me down gently onto the bed. He smiles, kissing me gently. I pull the covers up and rest my arms over his shoulders. Overall it's quite chaste, despite our cocks brushing against each other. He starts moaning and slips his hand beneath the covers. His hand plays with the both of us, it causes me to moan in response.

I splay my legs, exhaling gently. I don't feel anxious yet. Merlin brings out his lube again, opting to do it himself. I pull up the covers and watch him jerk himself off out of sheer curiosity. He finishes applying the lube to his cock and I decide to look away. I am watching the ceiling as he inserts two of his fingers into me.

"Ah," I hiss, nearly jumping. He pushes them in further, slowly, it's nearly excruciating.

I grasp at the bed and I'm trying to level my breathing as he inserts another. He's speeding up the process but I don't stop him. I move my arms up and my hands grasp at his back.

I buck my hips as he thrusts deeper into me, it makes him laugh. He kisses my neck and I smile up at him. I anticipate him inserting a fourth finger almost nauseously. I want him to fuck me. Merlin spreads his fingers out, making me whimper and groan.

He removed his fingers after inserting a fourth and then he replaced them with his prick. I groan again, my head tilted back. While I expected this to be meaningless sex to let off tension, he was putting so much effort into making sure I was comfortable. It was gentler than I'd been assuming it would be. I hold onto him, drawing my legs up and resting my heels on his lower back. At the least I was hoping he'd leave a love bite on my neck, maybe a bruise that I could admire in the mirror. Instead, he's leaving kisses on my neck and not allowing himself to grab me too tightly, even when he's reaching the edge.

All of this is quite affectionate and kind, I don't know how to feel about this. It feels good, of course it would, but I don't know how I feel about us making love. The night is nearly over, I've kept him up for a while building up to sex that likely would mean nothing once it was over.

He began thrusting faster while we both moaned. Merlin looked completely joyous, it made me feel bad that I wasn't reacting the same way. We both let out disjointed groans, sighs, and moans of pleasure. 

For a long while we're like this, Merlin thrusting into me and the both of us reacting to our sex as loudly as possible. It felt good to not have to shut myself up when a wave of ecstasy would come over me. He pushed the covers down, relieving both of us. I pulled him closer, groaning loudly as we're nearing the end.

We're grabbing at each other, I throw my head back and my mouth is left agape. Merlin thrusts deeper, I take a sharp hold of his shoulders and almost shiver in pleasure. He laughs, holding me in close while he reached climax. I slipped my hand down to my prick and I only needed to jerk off a few moments before I triggered my own orgasm as well.

I felt like I had fallen asleep. My eyes closed, I breathed deeply and eventually forced myself to sit up. There's cum slipping down my stomach, Merlin's cleaning himself off with tissues while I stare at him in the creepiest way possible. He doesn't mind it, he's not even paying attention to me while I watch. I actually am finding myself wanting to be cuddly with him. It makes me think that something changed when we had sex, but I wouldn't just change my view of him after he came in me. I grab my own tissue, wiping my stomach down while he waits for me to finish.

I ball it up and set it on the bedside table and immediately he pulls me in. At first I feel trapped. I feel like I need to kick him and get him away from me. It takes me a while, I do settle down and feel myself begin to fall asleep in his arms.

However, I made the mistake of not waiting until he was asleep. I nuzzled his neck, smiling against his skin.

It made him smile, he was smiling when I pulled away to get dressed and get out of bed.

I tried to avoid him for a few hours after that.

* * *

I don't know how to explain our current relationship. I've been coming over almost constantly since I moved back in to my house, we've had lunch and dinner together, gone out on dates, had regular sex for the past two months and spent a lot of our time together. I've been happy, I've enjoyed being around him and talking to him. He's been happy, too, he's acted casual and content every single time we see each other, but I know it makes him happy that I'm actually staying. Merlin had called his mum when he thought I wasn't paying attention and told her he was so happy and he was in love, she disapproved but he didn't take it as badly as the first time. 

Recently he's been hinting at marriage, at least at getting engaged. We've been able to switch the focus of the conversation, it's never gotten us to argue.

"Wouldn't it be nice to exercise our rights?" He asked me one night, after we'd been cuddling.

"What do you mean?" I tilted my head, like I was about to sit up.

Merlin took one of my hands, holding it and inspecting it. While I'd warmed up to him since, I was still a bit nervous. I always would be, without a doubt.

"Getting married. Have you considered us getting married?" He smiled, like I was joking.

I tried to mask my concern with a small smile. On this occasion I felt pressure to tell him that I haven't thought about it beyond what we'd already talked about. He looked sure that I'd answer immediately, he had his own contented grin resting on his face.

In that moment I didn't know what to say. I knew I'd have to say something I didn't mean, I was sure I would just to make him happy. I could have just gotten off with "I've thought about it, I'm still not sure," but I can never let myself get out the easy way. I had to come up with what I thought of getting married to him right now.

Considering it, I didn't find it pleasant in the slightest. I found it awkward and uncomfortable. For some reason I could only see it as me going through the motions daily while he was completely convinced I loved him. I could only see it as me suffering to make him happy. Of course I would suffer to keep him happy, but not in the sense that I'd fake loving him. I wasn't so heartless I'd lead him on and marry him when I didn't feel anything that deeply for him.

"Yes, I have. Why do you ask?" I stared him in the face. He kissed my forehead, nearly laughing in response.

"Oh, come on, haven't you caught on?" He wasn't rude when he said this, he cupped my cheek and rubbed his thumb against my cheekbone.

I wanted to pull away. I didn't want to continue talking about this and while I knew we'd have to discuss this, I just knew that we were going to end up resenting each other if we did.

Merlin thought I was joking. It made me upset that he didn't believe me for a portion of our conversation, but I didn't comment on it.

"Oh. Of course." I nodded and looked away.

He furrowed his brow and sat up, pulling the covers up unnecessarily. I backed away, feeling certain he was going to yell at me. He sighed and rested his forehead in his palm.

"You stay, but now you make me think you want to commit to a relationship when you don't. I thought you actually wanted to be with me." His eyes were dark and despondent.

I looked away from him and rested my arms onto my knees. For a while, Merlin sat there and rubbed sleep from his eyes.

"Isn't it enough that we care for each other and basically live together?" I took another glance at him. I had to look away when I saw his depressed expression.

"I'm just disappointed that you'd lead me to believe we were going to be serious." He got up, pulled on his shirt and refused to get back into bed with me.

"Look, I just don't see why we need to. We're old, we don't need an overblown ceremony to confirm how we feel."

Merlin looked hurt. He crossed his arms over his chest and it almost looked like his eyes were brimming with tears.

"I get it. You're still so unhappy with your identity that you don't want to confirm it to yourself. Even if you wanted to you still wouldn't. You don't love me. I understand that. I tried to entertain the idea that you did but I'm certain now that you just wanted a friend." He was vulnerable. It made me feel like I'd gone and done something horribly wrong to him.

I got up, I tried to reach out and comfort him but he blocked me away from himself.

"Just go, Harry. I need to spend some time alone." He didn't let me touch him even accidentally.

I dressed myself again, I didn't object to him making me leave. Merlin looked like he was about to cry, he looked so hurt I deserved to feel horrible about making him feel that way. I stopped in the foyer with him, we didn't look at each other.

"I'll miss this," I said under my breath.

Merlin lead me out. Just before he closed the door on me I heard him say something quite clearly and quite bitterly.

"Then maybe you should have tried harder."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for my absence on this story (I haven't updated it in about three months), but I've just been at a loss with it. All writing, really, I can't get past a certain point without deciding I'm totally lost on what to do. I really hope I can finish this one up and that someone will notice that I updated, because I know a few people really liked this story.
> 
> Nobody took any bets on who this new (and by new I mean the newest character introduced, not my own OC, I wouldn't make an OC unless they were minor) character is, but I hope it is at least a bit interesting~
> 
> Have an extra long chapter since I didn't update for three months.

If I was being honest, I missed the closeness. I liked curling up to him and falling asleep with him and I was on the brink of enjoying kisses on the temple and the hand-holding I forced on him. We'd gotten to the point where I really was starting to like being affectionate with him.

And I ruined my chance. I've lost Merlin for good over something completely realistic for two people over fifty. I can't help but feel that I shouldn't have said it. While it would have been awful to lie like that, at least I'd still be with him. I'm allowing myself to wallow in pity and self-loathing because I ended the only relationship I thought I could make work. It feels entirely pathetic to act like this, but if I could make it stop I would just feel numb. The first step to fixing a problem is acknowledging the problem, so at least I have that going for me.

I've got nothing else to focus on. No other friends besides Merlin and Gary, and he's been too busy with the shop to interact with me. I don't blame him. He's magnetic, everyone in the shop immediately took a liking to him, especially myself.

I haven't kept up on my hobbies, I've almost forgotten what it was I did to pass the time when I wasn't swamped with work. It's been hard to refrain from calling Merlin or texting him whatever sweet things I'd come up with before. The days have gone by in a haze, I haven't gone out and done anything frequently enough to break up the haze. I've been watching that dumb detective show, when the same few episodes we saw come up I can almost hear faints whispers of his commentary on the episode. They echo in my head for the duration of every episode. 

I turn off the show immediately and decide to not bother with the television anymore. Eventually I will return to watching the show, I'll wonder if he's watching it too, I'll pretend we're both commenting on it. I'll feel sorry for myself because I miss him and feel incredibly stupid that I broke it off with him, and then it'll continue in a cycle. And just like that I have a new routine.

It almost feels like I've lost him in the most tragic sense possible. Like he'd died, and there was no way I could ever see him again. For a few months I've been like this, in a state stuck of being stuck in a routine that felt just like my life back in London. I've had some kind of fear of seeing Merlin out and having to talk to him. I'd seen him out at the supermarket just two weeks ago, he was flipping through a magazine while queued up at the till. Somehow I'd ended up behind him without my knowledge until he started turning around, which prompted me to act casual. We both said "hello," he asked me if I was enjoying living in my old house and I responded with a nod. It was an awkward chat, which proceeded until we reached my house. I only live a street down from him, he ended up walking me home when I thought he despised me. For a second we both moved in closer to each other, like we'd both gone in for a hug or a kiss and then mutually agreed not to. We shook hands awkwardly and that was that. I haven't seen him since.

Now I'm staring at my phone screen, wondering if I should call him. It finally connected that we're not enemies and that I should call him and apologise for my odd behaviour. It's not an unreasonable hour, maybe we'd get talking about something that reminded me that we could just be ordinary friends.

My finger hovers over the "send" button, I've already typed out "hello, how have you been? sorry i havent talked to you recently." But I can't bring myself to actually text him. Once I make myself think I'm not petrified of any kind of relationship with him, I go and scare myself with the thought that he'll be hostile and he'll finally understand how much of a prick I've been to him. All prior friendliness will evaporate and we'll never be close again. And I do still want to be his friend, it just seems impossible when we've been on-and-off lovers for the majority of the time we've known each other.

What was it like when we were friends in the beginning? We were inseparable, we spent every second together and trusted each other completely. It's what led to us deciding to practice kissing and making out together, until we did it without first stating it was just practice. There was only a very brief moment in history where we were casual friends and nothing more.

I send the message, deciding that I shouldn't be so afraid of sending him such an innocent text. Now I play the waiting game.

I'm not afraid he's going to read into it. He doesn't read into every little thing, I'm the one who does that. I'm not particularly afraid he's going to react poorly to it, or think it's an invitation. He's likely going to know I just want to talk to him, there's nothing to worry about sending a text as simple as that.

The wait will feel longer than it really is. Twenty minutes feels like two hours in my mind, and during that perceived two hours I'm lost in thought.

* * *

_Merlin shoved me, laughing at me while we rushed down the pavement. I tried to trick him into stopping just past a pool of light from a street lamp, ducking against the pole and waiting for him to follow me._

_I rubbed my eye, smearing my black eyeliner that had only faintly had the chance to dry down. He stood in front of me, blocking me in against the pole._

_"What are you gonna do?" I smiled and tilted my head to the side. He hesitated, his hand reached out to grab at mine. For a moment we both stood in silence with our eyes locked on each other._

_Mine drifted down to his lips and blinked slowly, it felt like everything had turned slow. We both were suddenly lethargic. He held both my hands in his and I squeezed them, making him smirk momentarily._

_"What do you_ want _me to do?" He teased me, someone younger than me was easily able to tease me and make me feel inexperienced. But I didn't mind. He was able to do it and not upset me, and it perplexed me why I let him get away with it._

_"You could put your hands on my waist," I started moving his hands to rest on my exposed skin. His fingertips brushed underneath the ripped hem of my mesh shirt, his palms were cold and made me hiss._

_He started catching on then and started playing along with my game._

_"Alright. You could put your hands on my shoulders, for support." He leaned in closer. One of his hands moved from my waist to move my free arms. After he'd wrapped my arms around his neck, his hands settled back where they had been. I felt my heart start pounding in my chest, I was nervous, but I'd ignored it until we were only inches apart. We were right outside the fence of a neighbor three houses down from me._

_He'd tear us apart and call our parents if he found us. He wouldn't hold back on telling them what we did and possibly invent what we were going to do before he found us. I wasn't going to let that happen. My neighbor, he was one of the few people who had found Percival and James together, he got them separated for three months. During those three months Merlin and I were letter carriers, we together shared every class with either James or Percival and we'd taken to giving them each other's letters and then keeping them safe when they couldn't keep letters anymore. We both had to hear about their frustration of not even being able to talk unless they wanted to be brought into the headmaster's office and have their parents called._

_I'd be devastated if we'd been broken up for any amount of time._

_Merlin leaned into me, kissing me somewhat awkwardly. I pulled away in the end, getting tense at the thought that we'd be caught kissing. He looked confused at my sudden panic._

_"We need to go somewhere private." I sounded petrified. It scared him and I felt bad about worrying him like that._

_"Sh, don't worry." He looked me dead in the eye, for a minute it made me forget my fear. "You're alright, Harry."_

_He held me over my shoulder and helped me walk to our destination, some club that didn't ID. The whole way there I was thinking over if I even wanted to go, at that point I wanted to curl up into a ball for a long while until I'd stopped panicking. I didn't like clubs, I hated the thought of being caught in one. More so I hated the idea of acknowledging that I was queer, especially when it put me in this state where it could consume me and become my whole being. The idea of becoming a queer and nothing beyond that terrified me._

_We'd wandered into the top-most part of the club, there was a narrow staircase that led up to a sort of catwalk, a metal platform where the music was mostly drowned out. People would go up there to chat or have privacy during their intimacy. We had been planning to meet up with a boy from our school who'd caught onto us and wanted to "try out being queer."_

_Either he hadn't got the memo of where we were meeting, or he had gotten lost in the club. We told him to meet us there and after a chat we'd go to his place. I hadn't been thrilled about doing anything with this guy, but Merlin seemed genuinely interested. If I was being honest, I just wanted to be there with him._

_We sat side-by-side at one of the tables, I calmed myself down in silence, holding his hand beneath the table as some sort of support while he waited for the boy to show up. It took thirty minutes, ten added from us running late, before Merlin decided he wasn't going to show up._

_"The least he could do is be honest that he's not going to come," he sounded incredibly tensed. I tightened my grip on his hand._

_He leaned into me, nuzzling me for a moment. I pulled away quickly. This upset him, and he retracted from me in response._

_Of course I felt bad when I made him upset, but I just couldn't manage to keep myself from reacting poorly when he wanted to be affectionate. Again, a fear of not wanting to act on my barely-understood homosexuality beyond some impersonal sex. Merlin understood me, he could grasp that I had some problem with affection. Even a simple kiss, one that didn't entail anything would follow, got to me in some way._

_I sighed, then leaned over the table and slowly looped my foot behind his, connecting us at the ankle. It was an awkward position, but it perked him up just a notch. We sat for another thirty minutes, talking over if we wanted to get drinks, or dance, or finally slip out and go back home._

_We'd accepted far earlier that the boy wasn't going to show up. Then it had just come down to who was more persuasive. Merlin ultimately won, we stayed and shared a drink some older man beside me at the bar had treated me to. We teased him to get a few more drinks out of him, but then we gave up when he said we'd have to meet him in the toilets to get any more alcohol._

_"Could have just had the decency_ not to lead me on," he grumbled at us, moving away to another younger man at the bar. We laughed that he probably had a wife home who didn't fuck him, his kids hated him and he wanked over some hot coworker who had the most attractive bedhead.

_After we finished our drinks, we decided to leave. We were both quite tired at that point and I worked to hold him up while we walked home. His temple rested nearly on top of my head and he hummed something quietly while we walked._

_He finally seemed happier after having a few drinks. His hair tickled my face and felt like needles stabbing into my eyes, I kept my left eye closed as we stumbled down the sidewalk._

_I take a few glances at him while we walk, checking if he's still there and if he's looking at me in return._

_I decide to walk him to his door for a change, and I practically drag him down the side of the street until we reach his porch._

_Merlin straightens himself up, then leans his back against his front door. He runs his hand across the back of his neck, pushing some hair away. I smile faintly, standing somewhat close to him._

_"What do you think happened to that guy?" I rest my shoulder against the doorway and look up at him._

_"I don't care about what happened to him. I got to spend time with someone who actually cares to be around me." His eyes were dark in a way that made me want to curl my toes inside my chunky boots._

_He took a quick glance behind me, then leaned in to kiss me. For a second I could distract myself and make myself forget how I disliked affection. I actually enjoyed it. It made me happy, weirdly pressing my lips against his felt good._

_For a while we remain like this, kissing and enjoying it. I can understand why Merlin likes this now._

_He cups my jaw, I draw him closer at his shoulders. It's two in the morning, nobody is going to be out now to see us. I don't know what it is that's made me love affection for the time being, but right now I feel overjoyed. We take a break to breathe and I start laughing, quietly, but it echoes through the street. He hushes me, grinning as he does so, and brings me in for another kiss._

_For maybe ten minutes we're stuck like this, grabbing each other and kissing without any subtlety or any attempt to hide what we're doing. I feel completely in love right now._

* * *

I feel so pathetically lonely. I've trudged into the bathroom once again to piss, and I catch a quick glance at my face.

God, it's atrocious. I haven't shaved, so I'm scruffy in a way that could be attractive if my hair wasn't slightly greasy and wildly curly. My cheeks are red from wearing pyjamas too hot for this season, and my eyes are tired in an increasingly pronounced way. I'm glad I haven't been caught looking like this.

I pull my prick from my flannel trousers and focus on anything else. My first thought goes to what I need from the shop.

Milk, probably a Guinness or three since I've drained my stash dry. Instant oatmeal. I've no clue what else.

Merlin was the one who could make lists, he took stock of what was in my pantry and made me a list accordingly.

Stop thinking about him. It's pathetic.

I still have hope he'll respond to my text, that maybe we'll have a civil chat. From the other room I could swear I started hearing my phone beeping. I never changed the text tone to something softer or even more personal.

When I finish and return to the living room, I don't immediately check my phone. I change the channel to some movie I can tolerate, watch a few minutes and get myself invested in the plot, then remember I had a few texts to read.

In the background, the main character narrates his sadness.

The texts are all from Merlin.

**hey harry.**

**how have you been?**

**i'm sorry, i haven't been intentionally ignoring your texts, i've just been busy recently.**

My fingers hover over the keyboard. I think for a moment how to respond to him. Ask him how work is going, if he's dating or not. Maybe not that one, actually.

_i'm good, thank you. how have you been? what's been keeping you busy recently?_

I almost worry that he will say he's dating someone else and that he's completely in love. I know I'll be happy for him, being in love with a new guy who will treat him exactly how he deserves. Merlin should have that. But I have to be honest and admit that it does make me upset. I love him, I want him to be happy even if it can't be with me.

**i've been great. actually, i have great news i'd love to tell you. we could have lunch.**

Why is he offering this? Have I given him Stockholm Syndrome? I don't even know what day it is and he wants to arrange a lunch. At least with dinner I could take an educated guess of what time it was and when to meet him.

I check the time on my phone, it's 9:50. I can see from underneath my blinds that it's sunny outside, almost a bit shocking to see the sun at all.

_you really want to meet me for lunch?_

I begin to assess my surroundings, thinking that I should clean myself and my house up. I sit back, deciding that just changing my clothes and taking a shower will suffice. Along with a shave.

Merlin takes a moment to message me back, and I decide he's playing a joke on me. There's no way he could be serious about actually wanting to see me again. If he does, I'm going to force myself to be on my best possible behaviour and be as sweet to him as I can.

**of course i do. you're still my friend. i don't just want you to disappear from my life again.**

I find that incredibly sweet. It makes me smile, for the first time I've smiled in a long while. The conversation is going smoother than I could have hoped.

_what's the big news?_

I'm actually quite excited to see him now. Before I would have been totally petrified that he'd hate me, or that we'd be unable to carry a conversation and finally we would have to accept that our friendship had totally burned out.

**you'll find out.**

How needlessly ominous. But now I'm excited to see him.

_when are we going to meet up? what time is good for you?_

Now I'm morbidly curious about what he's going to tell me. I go to the bathroom and first decide to shower. Even if we don't meet each other today at least I won't look so disgusting now. I start the shower and start undressing while Merlin texts me the time and place that we're meeting.

**1 pm at rosemary's works on my end. how about you?**

I wipe my fingers off on a hand towel before responding.

_yes, that's just fine._

**see you then.**

Be sure not to emote too much there, Merlin.

I step in the shower, and immediately turn the tap so I'm not boiling like a lobster. Showering after spending a week refusing to even step foot into the bathroom to do anything more than brush my teeth and relieve myself felt incredibly good. I run my fingers through my hair, wet tendrils hitting my forehead and nearly dripping down to my eyes. I can remember once trying to shower with Merlin last month or so, both of us putting our hands on the wall and the sliding glass door for support. I turned away from the shower head to face him, helping him scrub his back when he couldn't reach, tolerated getting fondled while he tried to get both of us aroused, and finally went to bed with him after we'd finished and dried off. Cuddling up with him and listening to him breathe while he slept.

After washing my hair and scrubbing myself off, I continue to stand in the shower a while. Lukewarm water pelts me as I hold my head low against the plastic wall of my shower. I stood there unthinking for minutes, my mind completely numb as I watched the white wall in front of me.

My mind was blank. I couldn't force myself to think of anything. It felt good to stop thinking for a while. I rarely had the chance to, always thinking about what I was going to do, what I should say, what someone meant when they said something to me, et cetera. Case and point, I never got a moment to just relax. Only when I was in good company would I let myself relax.

That moment of relaxation didn't last long until I started thinking again. Thinking of Merlin, thinking of our youth together. In my current state, my idealism of him, I can only think of the good times we had together. Him taking me to films, going out with James and Percival, getting drunk with him and listening to our favourite songs. Lying on his bed, curled up together and only listening to the other breathing. Grabbing at each other in anticipation of kissing each other and dancing together in our bedrooms, cuddling together after having sex.

I find tears rushing down my cheeks along with beads of water after reminding myself of him.

* * *

I've dressed myself in clothes that I just took out of the dryer: a scratchy button-down shirt with black trousers that may or may not be squeezing my arse. I tried to stick my phone into my back pocket and failed miserably, deciding then that these trousers were much too tight and that I'd need to drop at least a pound or three to even dare fitting into these properly. When I look in the mirror, I look like I'm wearing bell bottoms. I feel like a ridiculous teenager. However, I don't have any other options unless I want to throw a better pair of trousers into the wash and run late. So, I decide that these will have to do. At least they're not bursting at the seams.

My hair is loose and curly, I've shaved for the first time in a few weeks, and while I look tired still at least I don't look like complete shit. I fumble with the second button, trying to decide if I want it undone or not. I'm almost nervous that if I undo it, he'll be uncomfortable, so I keep it as is. Maybe later in lunch I'll undo it, when we're more comfortable.

I go to stick my phone into my pocket, but not before checking it to see if Merlin has messaged me again.

**just a warning, you are probably going to be surprised.**

I furrow my brow. He has to be just teasing me right now.

_alright. see you there._

For a second I hover my finger over the smiley face emoticon. I send it with the smiley face and almost instantly decide that it's horrific.

I head out, phone in my shirt pocket and trousers that make my arse either look flat or great with an unbuttoned, slightly wrinkled shirt and, of course, wildly messy hair. It takes twenty minutes to walk to Rosemary's and I may have started a bit too late. I start to jog to get to the restaurant before one. It's 12:45 and I'm certain I'll be late.

I don't understand why I'm running like it's my last chance to see Merlin and I'll certainly lose him for good if I don't rush to Rosemary's. After a while of jogging I'm out of breath and my cheeks are probably red.

Finally, after a good while of walking and trying to run again, I find myself in front of Rosemary's. Except I didn't recognise it as such. Numerous residents were standing by the windows, peering in, some with their hands plastered to the glass. I started walking up to the door, to find a man sitting out front. He was a waiter, I'm sure he was, and behind him, stood a bulky man in a black shirt guarding the door. It looked like there'd been some accident that happened, it was confusing me.

I peaked in and saw numerous empty tables in the front room. It almost looks like it's closed.

For a quick second I search through the crowd to see if I can find Merlin, but after a while I give up. I go up to the man at the door.

"Hello, is there something going on? I was going to meet a friend for lunch." I ask and the man inspects me a moment.

"What is your name?" He starts opening the book he's holding, one that looks like the book you're given to put your card into when you're done with your meal.

"Harry Hart. I'm here to meet Merlin Caird, does he have a reservation here?" I look over his shoulder, and over the bulky man, to see if people are moving around in there.

He nods, and the bodyguard leads me into the restaurant, making sure that no one else comes in except for me.

"What's going on?" I question him, as he continues to lead me through the restaurant to the back room, reserved for special parties.

When we enter the room, it's a bit dim, but I can still make things out easily. I see two figures at a table in the middle of the room, both huddled together like they were having a private conversation even though no one else was there. One looks up, the one facing to the side of the entrance to the room. The wall sconces lit up his head in a somewhat romantic champagne-coloured glow and I recognised him immediately as Merlin. I stopped short of running at him and stared at the figure sitting beside him. A man who looked to be younger than both of us, but not by much, with blond hair combed in a way that looked quite classy for going out to lunch.

And my suspicions were confirmed. Merlin found a new beau that treated him better than I ever could. I start to feel the upset rise in my stomach but then I notice the man looking up. I put on a braver face and approach the table to sit down. When I do, I instinctively turn to Merlin.

"Hello," I say softly, and he smiles warmly at me.

"I'm glad you could make it." He gestures over to the man sitting beside him. His hand rests on his shoulder. He turns to him and grins in a subtle way, one that I always used to admire when we were young. "Introduce yourself," his voice is inviting.

The blond man smirks at me, then reaches his hand out across the table.

"Hello, I'm Chester King. You must be Harry Hart, correct?" His voice is slow, it sounds like he's suppressing another accent and masks it with RP.

"Yes, pleased to meet you." I shake back a bit awkwardly, as I always do. Once our hands are pulled apart I rest my hand down on my thigh.

Merlin looks a little surprised and turns to me, eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't you recognise him?" He laughs a little, and Chester seems to be flourishing in the attention. I didn't want to assume bad of him so soon, but it seemed like he was going to be getting on my nerves at least once during our lunch.

I shake my head like I'm dumbfounded, then stare at him, because he does look familiar.

"No. Not ringing any bells."

They both chuckle together and then Chester looks back at me. Merlin's eyes remain on him.

"Haven't you watched _The Isabel Parkins Mysteries_? I'm the romantic lead, Dr. Reggie Taylor." Now he sounds dumbfounded. He's surprised I don't regonise his face or his name when I'm not someone who watches trashy TV shows aimed at middle-aged women who need masturbation material.

"Yes. Wouldn't have placed you as gay, or the type to be dating my friend, actually." I try to sound friendly, I have to show Merlin I'm supportive and make him know I'm happy he's found a man he connects with. Even if we don't connect ourselves.

Chester takes Merlin's hand and rubs his knuckle with his thumb. "I'd say we're not exactly dating anymore."

I'm becoming ever so slowly more uncomfortably around Chester. And now I understand why women were flocking outside the restaurant.

"What do you mean by that? I thought you two had only gotten together recently." I watch the waiter bring us red wine, and while I don't exactly enjoy it I do start drinking it just to make myself feel better about being stuck with this man for at least thirty minutes.

Merlin turns his gaze to me. I perk up and smile at him at him, running my finger along the rim of my wine glass. We stare at each other, his pupils dilate just slightly and I glance him over a second.

I stop myself when I hear Chester start to talk again.

"We met almost one and a half months ago." He draws Merlin in, he can tell that we have a closer bond then he likes and now it feels like he's trying to rub it in that Merlin is his. While I understand, it still feels like he's just doing it to be a dick. Or maybe I'm just irritated.

Merlin turns back to him, smiling gently.

"I saw him in a seedy gay bar over in London, he looked so different from every other patron there. We got to talking, and I brought him back here to my house. Surprising we both happen to live here, aye?" They stare each other in the eye. They're not obnoxiously close, but it does make me think it's intentional.

"Why would you go to a bar in London?" I take another drink from my wine. It feels weird to be drinking so early, but I guess it's all up to Chester anyway.

He's looking at the menu and judging every meal listed, then consults Merlin on what to order. It's so weird seeing Merlin with someone younger than him, he's always seemed like the type of person to me who only feels comfortable dating older men. The only two men he'd ever dated, me and the water sports guy, were both at least 3 years older than him. Maybe it's the appeal of him being famous, but he doesn't seem like the type to care if you're somebody at all. Then what's the appeal with this guy? It must just be something that I can't see.

But I don't think Merlin would date someone who wasn't good for him and to him. Well, except for me, possibly, but I'm the exception. I'm just a college crush it took a while for him to get over.

"I thought it would be fun. I haven't gone over to London in a while and I thought at least I could find temporary companionship." Again, he's gazing at me. It's just making me upset now to see him looking like this at me. I guess he doesn't realise what it feels like to me.

"Seems everyone there was about as perceptive as Harry here. I was virtually unnoticed, then I saw Merlin. He looked so sad, I went up to him and asked how he was doing. He told me he was going to drink himself into a stupor and go home with the first guy who bothered to speak to him." He smirked at Merlin, who looked away almost like he was embarrassed at Chester for giving away that information so easily.

I finish my wine and now the server comes over with a salad and three small plates. She offers to refill my wine and I let her. It's not like I have anywhere to be after this.

"So why are you here? Surely you'd have a penthouse somewhere bigger and more exciting than here, right?" I wait to get some salad and turn my gaze to Chester.

He's throwing lettuce and sliced tomatoes onto his plate, avoiding the onions and other additional vegetables laced throughout. Finally he looks at me and gives another grin that reads to me as smug. It must just be that he's adored by Merlin, that has to be what's making me dislike him. I'm just being irrational.

"No, absolutely not. I love having a large house here in a smaller town. No paparazzi, some aura of privacy, and of course a normal man who likes me for who I am, and isn't just with me as a publicity stunt." He starts eating while Merlin tongs everything onto his plate.

I'm passed the bowl. I take the smallest portion of salad I can, seeing as really nothing is left.

Merlin pokes at his plate, he's shut himself up for a while.

The rest of our lunch consists of weird PDA from Chester and Merlin, a lot of grabbing and hand-holding. I decided I would rather be drunk than around them, which sounds harsh but having to hear the entire story of how they met and how Chester thought it would be true love, sobriety sounded ridiculous.

Chester then left without draping himself all over Merlin, and we walked to our respective homes. Nobody bothered to follow us and finally we were given some time alone to talk together.

"So what do you think of him?" He pushes the button for us to cross the street, I shove my thumbs into the front pockets of my trousers, and I can barely fit them.

We both cross when the light turns green, our arms brushing together.

"He's fine. I think it matters most what you think of him. I like how happy he makes you, you couldn't stop smiling during lunch." We continue down the pavement, Merlin giving me a little nudge with his elbow.

"I just wanted your opinion. You don't have to like him, I just thought you'd be better at assessing him than I would be. If you like him, that makes me happy."

I couldn't exactly say I liked him, but we easily could have just gotten off on the wrong foot.

"Does it really matter what I think? He seems like a good man who cares about you." I smile gently at him and my instinct is to reach over into his pocket and hold his hand.

Merlin gives a satisfied sigh.

"I've been thinking about it, and honestly I think I do fancy him." He sounds like a teenage girl, it's weird to hear him talk like this. Did he ever say things like that about me?

I try to walk faster in hopes that it will get him to stop talking about Chester, but it's hopeless now.

"You really think so?" I feel like my heart is being trampled. This feels like some kind of revenge for me being a horrendous boyfriend.

"Maybe. I feel like we could last."

We turn, we're now close to my house. Merlin is further down from me, maybe three blocks.

"How did you feel when you fell in love?" He asks, smiling softly at me.

The most I can think of is our make out session on his front step after we got drunk. I felt my heart go faster and my thoughts went from "What am I doing?" to "Why wasn't I doing this sooner?"

"I felt like I finally understood. Being in love finally made sense. I started to get why people liked it so much." I turn to him, I feel like I probably look so sad to him.

Merlin grinned gently. "That's how I feel now. Of course I felt it before, with you, but it makes sense when you say it."

I walk up to my door and Merlin stood in front of me on the doorstep.

"Well, goodbye." I moved to go back inside, but Merlin grabbed onto my arm gently.

"Harry, one second, please." He lets go of me when I turn back to him.

We stare at each other a moment, same way we did during lunch. I wish he kept his hand on my arm.

"Can you promise me we'll stay in contact? I don't want to stop talking to you again." He looks like he's ready to go to bed at midday. I don't blame him.

"I promise. And you can trust me on that one." I smile at him.

Merlin goes to pull me in for a full hug, but then he wraps one arm around me and hugs like that. It feels awkward.

When we break apart, I start to go in to pull him back. But I let him go.

"Goodbye, Harry." He gives me another sweet smile.

"Goodbye, Merlin," I say softly. I watch him leave, feeling like I shouldn't have let him go in the first place.

Once he's off my street I close the door and go back inside to my rut. But at least I now know that I'll still be able to talk to him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever. This chapter wasn't happening and it bothered me. Also, there will likely be many typos, my phone doesn't autocorrect.

I've been sending Merlin meaningless texts all week. He's been too busy with Chester to even bother talking to me about anything other than him or how happy he is. I don't feel upset with him being happy, I just wish we could have been happy together. 

Lying about being happy just to ensure his happiness is driving me mad. I feel like at this point he really doesn't care if I'm having some kind of breakdown, as long as his life is good then he doesn't care about anything. I may just be becoming bitter and upset over him getting together with Chester, but I think I can justify how I feel. He goes on constantly about him, how sweet he is and how much he loves him. Whenever I try to talk to Merlin about something other than Chester he doesn't say much of anything. If I say I feel like my life is slowly becoming empty and lonesome then he'll respond with a simple "feel better soon," even though he knows he could be helping me. He's becoming almost neglectful towards me, in that it feels like he doesn't really care to talk to me. It's especially jarring after he made a point to tell me to keep in contact with him. This has to be revenge for me being neglectful towards him. I do feel like I do deserve this to some degree, but he made a point for us to keep in touch. He's not the kind to be a prick to me just for the sake of being a prick.

I'm sure he just has to be preoccupied by Chester, that has to be it. I'm still a bit upset, but at least I can write it off as him being a good boyfriend, and not just needlessly ignoring me.

Recently I've also been getting back in touch with Gary, who seems to have finally gotten adjusted to being the new head of my shop. We've been texting each other and talking about the shop. Now he's on talking about his boyfriend, Charlie. 

**he refuses to b around me bc his family hates me.**

**he says its bc he 'wants to surprise them' but i know hes just ashmed of me being poor.**

I feel like we're closer than we were before, chatting about relationships and acting overall much friendlier than I could have hoped.

_i'm so sorry, gary. you deserve better than that._

_what are you going to do?_

It's almost pathetic that I'm chatting like I'm the same age as Gary.

But, my mind is off my current predicament involving love, so I might as well keep distracting myself until I don't feel so bad about it. I like talking to Gary, though, he distracts me from my own relationship problems.

**im leavin him. if hes too ashamed to introduce me to his family im done.**

I lean my head back, stretching my neck out as I do so. I'm awake earlier than I'd like to be, but I need to start acting like a real person again. Waking up at reasonable times and going out, being productive, et cetera. Actually changing my clothes every single day.

_we could get drinks to celebrate being single._

Now I'm just making excuses to spend time with the last reliable friend I have. It's a Saturday, it's early, I have no prior engagements, I might as well socialise with someone other than Merlin.

Last night I went to work cleaning up my house, and now it doesn't look so deplorable. I was exhausted, my back hurt, but at least my house looked presentable. I found myself thinking back to how incredibly pathetic I was when I first returned back home. Right then and there I should have realised it. I acted stupid when he was around, I started getting nervous around him and I just took that as nothing. But now I'm just making myself upset over something I cannot remedy now. I return to my thoughts about Gary, something to keep me from getting too depressed right now.

**id love that. tonite?**

_of course._

We agree upon a time to meet for drinks, 9 pm. If I can even ignore the subject of Merlin tonight, that will be a victory to me. I can actually decide not to wear almost skin-tight trousers tonight. I'm actually excited, at least I won't feel like a third wheel. We're going to meet up at a pub in London, one that Gary knows well.

I have the whole day now to wait until 8 or so. Now I am beginning to regret getting my sleeping schedule on track.

* * *

Around 6 pm, a show aimed at young adult women comes on. I watch on and off while I put on my clothes a bit over-eagerly. From what I can gather, the plot is about this successful woman author who becomes associated with a handsome, broody vampire unironically named Mr. Darcy. Cue the ridiculous sex scenes.

Within ten minutes of the episode I'm watching, the main character has rolled around in bed with the Darcy character once, arguing with him about turning her into a vampire.

"I could stay a writer forever! We could be together forever!" Her "love interest" is a total afterthought to her. I'm not sure if this is a parody, but it seems to be taking itself completely seriously.

"But why would I curse you to live forever? It's torture, watching everyone you love die. Having to feast on what you once were. You can never watch another sunrise." He argues, because of course he is incredibly sensitive despite being over a thousand years old and otherwise completely detached from humanity. I can feel that women watching this are getting off to him.

The main character scoffs and she leaves him tangled in the sheets.

"But if you had me, it wouldn't matter if anyone else died! You said I was your soulmate, you love me exclusively, screw everyone else!" Her direction must have been to progressively build to tears throughout the scene, but instead the actress breaks down suddenly, dropping to her knees and grabbing the head of the bedpost. She sobs almost ridiculously.

The actor playing the vampire Darcy is just stiff in the worst possible way. No charisma, no charm, no reason for me to believe that he cared for anything. It does work when he's portrayed as detached, but trying to play him up as sensitive and empathetic immediately shatters that illusion.

After they've finished arguing, the scene switches. An unknown male character is talking to vampire Darcy, one with shoddy, pointed prosthetic ears covered in fake fur to indicate that he's supposed to be a werewolf. He speaks gently, talking about how he regrets what happened between them. Suddenly I'm intrigued.

The actor, he's actually emoting. It's not the best acting, but compared to his performance only a scene earlier it's a BAFTA-worthy performance. He looks hurt when he gazes into the other character's eyes, the one who apparently is the Wickham expy.

"Why do you torment me like this? You slept with my sister and yet you still feel like you have to get back at me every chance we see each other. George, why do you hate me so much?"

Werewolf Wickham stares, he looks cold.

"I don't hate you. I don't know what I feel. I feel almost uncomfortable that you had to spill to me how you love me at that dance. Do you still?"

Darcy looks away, lowering his gaze and folding his arms onto the balcony's railing. The wind blew their hair.

The scene changes slowly, the two are in bed together, gyrating to indicate they are having sex, all angles above their waists. It's not a bothersome scene, I'm not making a big deal of looking away from the screen and voicing my disgust in anyway. When it's a sex scene that shows practically nothing and is a bit awkward, it's still better than the scene before. No boring chats between vampire Darcy and the bratty main character "conveniently" named Liz. It's less subtle than Bridget Jones.

But, this has a sex scene between the two lead males, one thing that Helen Fielding can't say she ever did in her novels. One that were I in a better mood, possibly with a particular man who enjoyed teasing me into arousal, I might actually enjoy watching. They're both handsome, very much so (handsomer than Chester at the very least), and they groan in a way that I would get into if I hadn't just thought of Chester's faux-posh voice and mediocre face. And his horrific personality.

And how Merlin was so intrigued by him and actually seemed like he loved him. I turn off the scene just as vampire Darcy is about to "climax" and sit in silence a while in some vain attempt to clear my mind.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Gary has texted me back, informing me that he's not sure when he should arrive.

_it takes an hour for the train to take me into london. does 7:30 work?_

**were alrdy closed, ive got nothin bettr to do.**

I don't know what we're going to be able to talk about. Maybe venting about Merlin will feel good, but I want to get over him. But I can't keep my mind off of him. He was right about one thing, I still do miss him and care for him even when he's not there.

I'm a bit worried about meeting up with him now.

I head out to the station, pulling on a cardigan. While I would put more effort into how I look, I think I'll look just fine with a cardigan and a pair of trousers. Gary's seen me looking less polished before.

On the ride my mind is not on having drinks with Gary. Now that I've got my mind on Merlin I have to continue thinking about him. I have to keep thinking about his face, how I felt with him. How he acted at lunch last week. Of course my first thought is that Chester is obviously brainwashing him and trying to turn him against me, maybe make him into some super spy while he's at it, but that's just me trying to make myself feel better about the whole situation. Merlin's personality is apparently perfectly compatible with his and he makes him happy.

I return to our text chat and scroll up very slightly to find old texts from months ago. Ones where he sent me those heart emojis, sent goodnight texts and told me he loved me. I scroll up further and find a good few risque pics he'd sent when I'd gone off on errands and he was stuck at home. I was about to send him a text, telling him goodnight, but he didn't need it. Friends don't do that, he has Chester to tell him goodnight and kiss him on the temple.

I'm leaned back into the seat on the train, now I'm only thirty minutes away from London and the whole ride has been dismal. I've been alone, nobody has gotten in or out and I've been wallowing in self-pity.

Were I not feeling so small I'd stretch my legs out onto the other seat. I put my phone into my pocket and continue the ride in silence, keeping my mind as clear as possible.

* * *

It takes me a while to find the pub Gary was telling me about, and when I do I find men pouring out the entrance. At first I believe it's a club that bounces, and that I stand no chance to get in, but it seems that they're enjoying a smoke break outside the club. I enter, it's basically the club Merlin and I frequented but turned up to eleven. The music is louder, the lights are more intense, the the clientele are much younger and much more attractive. I thread myself through, looking all around me for Gary.

A lot of the men in here are dressed the same as him, bomber jackets and polo shirts galore. It's hard to pick him out by style alone, but I eventually do see him near the bar, drinking a pint and leaning against a wall.

He looks happy, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth and he's taking long looks at a few guys passing him by.

I bump into a lot of different men before I reach him. Gary grins and insists on pulling me into a one-armed hug. I appreciate that he didn't try to full-on embrace me. While I try to decide what drink I want, I pull my glasses off my face, tucking them up into my hair and rubbing the bridge of my nose.

I feel like I'm talking to the centre of attention. Many guys are eyeing him up, most of them about my age and looking for an attractive younger man to chat up. Of course, I didn't feel upset by this, but there was that little sting of dread, the feeling that by the end of the night I'd be abandoned. But, Gary's attention is almost entirely on me.

"I'm glad you came," he raises his voice and leans in to speak to me.

I smile and pull my glasses back down. I could have beared to keep them off, only a mild case of short-sightedness, but I feel that I look more complete with them. Maybe a bit more sophisticated, dare I say.

"Why wouldn't I? Do I have somewhere better to be?" That makes him laugh and he bumps back into the wall. His eyes are still stuck on me.

His gaze isn't hypnotic, but that's not to say I felt uncomfortable with him staring at me. I think his gaze felt more quizzical, like he was questioning what my internal monologue was, or planning what he'd say next. Quizzical in a way that was enticing, it made him look like he was planning his every move and that he was trying to make the night end in a very specific way. Gary takes a sip of his pint but doesn't stop watching me.

"What do you want to do?" I sound odd raising my voice, it sounds choked and too forced.

He doesn't notice, however, and he points to the dance floor.

"If I request a song, you have to dance with me." He grins. Gary's acting like my own personal subdued manic pixie dream girl. Soon he'd be forcing me to dance out in the street during a thunderstorm and insisting that we listen to The Smiths and take rollerskating lessons.

He slipped off for a moment, deciding to himself that I was very much approving of the idea of dancing.

I take the brief break from him to order a stout beer and check my phone. I'm telling myself not to do it, to let myself enjoy my night with a friend I hadn't seen in a long time. And it had been nice. I felt relaxed and my mind was off of him.

But now I had five texts, all attributable to Merlin, and no idea what to do.

_hey, srry i havent texted you recently._

_chester's been keeping me busy all hours of the day, i actually got to go hang out on set yesterday._

_it was fun, maybe i could convince him to let me bring you. ;)_

_anyway, how have you been?_

_are you seeing  anybody?_

I receive my drink from the bartender, someone younger and kind of cute, and drink as much of it as possible in one chug. When I spot Gary coming back I put the pint glass down and try to look presentable once again.

He looks so ecstatic, it makes me think if Charlie really had refused to go out with him, or if it was just something as simple as him liking to spend time with friends. Maybe for one night I can force myself to not overthink everything.

For a while, I'm good at this. Gary and I chat, we do shots, and he forces me to chat with a guy he knows.

"Gary," I start saying mid-conversation.

"Please call me Eggsy." He jabs in quickly, not in an impolite manner, however.

"Okay, _Eggsy_ ," his nickname is absolutely ridiculous, but he nods when I correct myself, "what would you like to do? This club's a bit dull if you're not picking someone up."

Eggsy looks a bit offended.

"What do you mean? Come on, Harry, be spontaneous. You can't expect fun to come after you." He takes another drink. My expectations were being shattered: he isn't a lightweight, but I don't know why I expected him to be a lightweight.

"Well of course, but maybe we could do something. Is there anything else to do here, or is it just grinding?"

He decides to not dignify me with a verbal answer and walks off, expecting me to follow him. I do follow him, of course without questioning it, and we continue on. We thread our way through the crowd, I get bumped and prodded and nudged by every man in the club.

We reach a far corner of the club. When I try to look through the swinging door, I can't see anything but a looming darkness. I feel like I'm being tricked but Eggsy seems determined on getting me to see this room before we leave.

Once we're both through the door and standing up against the wall, I'm overwhelmed by what is before me. It looks like a dungeon in here, dark with grey walls and a few fixtures set up to dimly light the room. The men are all broken off together in groups of two to four. I take quick glances all around the room, it's hot, humid, and I take a glance at Eggsy, hoping that he was just joking with me.

However, I'm a bit dismayed to find that Eggsy looks eager watching a couple across the room from us. We both stay for a little while longer, watching. 

Eggsy is focused on one couple, they both are standing close to each other and groaning.  They appear to be grinding against each other, I start to turn away and disappear through the club, hoping that buses are still going.

I feel a tug on my sleeve, Eggsy has grabbed me and won't let me go.

"Wait up!" He grins, cheeky as always. "At least say goodbye, Haz." 

I smile back, my free hand running through my hair. He continues to grin and the expression slowly turns to a smirk, holding my arm now.

We stand in the doorway, Eggsy's gaze taking a romantic feel as we come closer together. I move us both off to the side, backing Eggsy up against the wall. I cup his cheek in my hand, he coyly smiles at me and rests his hand on mine. When he's barely making a move, simply standing and watching me extremely intently, I lean in and kiss him. It's enjoyable but I would prefer to be kissing someone else.

We continue kissing, I grab his hips with both of my hands, his hands rest on my face. My leg slips between his after not long and I rub my thigh against his crotch.

Eggsy whines, he wraps his arms around me and buries his face into my shoulder.

We break apart after Eggsy finishes, he stares with a dazed look on his face, grinning while we walk (and wobble) out of the club.

I make my way to a bus stop, analysing the route before I decide to wait. He looks confused, still dazed, but he's at least aware.

"Where are you going? You can stay at mine tonight." He smirks, I become upset at myself for trying to ditch him.

Oh well, one night was enough happiness, right?

Eggsy and I say our goodbyes and he walks to his flat, all while I continue waiting for the bus. I got close enough to cheering myself up, might as well go home halfway successful. The bus picks me up. I sit towards the back, my eyes watering as I grow more tired.

I feel my phone buzzing and pluck it out of my pocket.

_harry, are you alive? date?_

I furrow my brow, trying to think up what to type back to him.

"haha, super funny merlin, i just rubbed my leg against my apprentice's crotch in a gay bar and didn't even take his offer to go home with him! now i feel lonely and seeing a text from you makes me wish i could still go home to you! pretty good, how about you?"

**technically. drinks with an old collegue.**

_lucky. chester went out for drinks with some friends, i wish id gone with him instead of making it out like i'd be nervous._

**well, i could come by and we could have drinks together.**

I'm crossing the line now. At least I wasn't being totally embarrassing now. However, I didn't feel proud when I was considering trying to win him back. But I won't deny that the thought of being alone with him is exciting me. When Chester's around, it's hard to chat with Merlin or bring up anything about our past. In my current state, I want to reminisce.

_not sure. u drunk?_

**i wish. could we just hang out? i've missed you**.

After some radio silence, waiting as the train was starting to reach town, I received a response.

_please do. he's not coming home until tomorrow, i'm not keen on spending my night alone._

I'm celebrating, thoughts bouncing around like I would be if I was younger and we were being coupley in private.

Moments of privacy were so valued, even just to chat or spend quietly together. We'd lie on my bedroom floor, listening to post punk records. He never liked them, up until he heard one song.

Merlin fell in love with 'I Melt With You.' It was a cheesy romantic song, too pop for my tastes, but he really loved it. He'd hum to it, he would come to learn to lyrics, he adored the record. It became warped with how often he wanted to listen to it, but I didn't mind. I kept it for ages, never listening to it, but having it in my collection just for Merlin's sake. In the sleeve, he slipped notes on occasion.

The notes ranged from "play it again Haz" to "one day I'll get you to like it" to "I heard you singing." Every note still remained, all slowly deteriorating with yellow edges. Before I went to his house, I'd bring it.

I considered downloading the song for a long while, but I resisted until the train stopped, I jumped out, and I practically dashed to my house to recover the record. It sat on my shelf with other records that I couldn't listen to, I checked it fervently, thinking the notes would have fallen out and been lost during the move, but every single one was there.

I wanted to sit down and read them all, but reliving it with Merlin would be better.

After another walk, I was waiting with a bit of nervous tension at his door. The record is tucked tightly in my hand, my doubts begin o consume me until he opens the door.

He hadn't shaven, his face was scruffy and he smelt like he'd just gotten out of the shower. I smiled at him, resisting he urges to hug him or make some hideous remark.

"Thank you for showing up," his voice was tired, lazy and his accent slightly thicker. He stepped out of the doorway, allowing me in. We got situated on his sofa, but he got back up, apologising profusely and admitting that he'd forgotten to get us drinks.

He brought back water for himself and a beer for me.

After a few sips in silence, I perked up.

"Did I wake you up?" I ran my thumb along the lip of the bottle, he set his glass down and shook his head.

"No, I'm just tired. I'll wake up, don't worry." He grinned at me, and again our conversation became a stalemate. He wasn't speaking, opting to drink his water and stare through me, while I glanced between him, the record, and my beer. If we didn't start talking soon, I was going to leave.

He did start waking up, he went to the kitchen to get himself a beer as well, and finally we were talking.

We had a stupid chat about my 'date,' and Merlin came to the conclusion that I was slowly becoming a paedo. I laughed and he brought his attention to the record.

"What is it?" He went to pick it up and I took it for him.

"It's nothing. That record you really liked when we were younger." I stare at the cover, then give it over to him.

He looks at it a while, expression softening, then becoming quizzical.

"You still have it?" He grins, but when he goes to remove the vinyl, the notes topple out into his lap.

When he picks them up, his expression becomes warm and fond. He handles them delicately, setting them atop the sleeve when he finishes reading them. A few notes are set in their own pile, one he then picked back up when all the notes were read. He gave them to me and began slipping the rest into the sleeve once again.

"I will steal this from you," "are these the lyrics?" followed by a few lines, "the future's open wide" with a little lopsided heart drawn beside it, and finally every lyric, some underlined and the whole note annotated. "there's nothing you and I won't do" was labelled specifically, "making love to you was never second best" had a cheeky "no comparison, can only assume it's true" note beside it, and finally there was a little "I love you and would love to melt with you" note at the end of the note.

I smile, my heart gets a bit fluttery at the note. I'm so pathetic, but it's cute.

"We were cute," I chuckle and Merlin sighs.

He takes another drink while I study the notes over again. I feel like our conversation is going to a stand-still again, but thankfully he decides to do something to keep the ball rolling.

He studies my face, I make an effort to look pleasant while he does so and we both watch each other cautiously. I slip the notes into the sleeve and begin to move closer to him. Merlin backs up slowly, he doesn't seem disgusted by it, but he won't sit close to me.

He looks off to the side, then looks back at me with a nervous expression passing over his face.

I set the record down on the coffee table and we both look at each other again. Were this a few months ago, we would be entangled with each other again. But the staring is unbearable, I can tell he's hating it, too. He begins moving his hand but soon places it back down on the sofa. The tension hurts, I feel like just showing up to spend time with him was a bad idea on my part alone. He looks so desperate to do something.

"Merlin?" I ask quietly, looking away for a moment. A pool of reflective light is falling on the record sleeve and I see the indent of the lopsided heart pressed into the cover. It makes me smile but when I turn back to him, my small smile fades.

"I think you should go. It's not fair to Chester to invite you over when he's gone." He isn't stern in this, he doesn't sound like he believes what he's saying.

"What do you mean?" I begin to sound desperate.

He stands up and I follow him. Merlin picks up the record, giving it back to me and walking over to the door.

I follow him and I try to ask him why he's forcing me out. Merlin doesn't answer.

"Goodnight." He tries to block himself with the door.

"Merlin," I plead, but the door ends up shutting before my eyes, the sliver of light pouring out shrinking until finally I'm standing in the dark, holding an aging record with notes beginning to fall out.


End file.
